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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955699">Held: Remix</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909'>ashes0909</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret'>FestiveFerret</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Held: Extended Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:41:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a briefcase Tony held sometimes. He used it when they assembled, or when he had a particularly precarious board meeting to attend. It contained the suit, Iron Man red, sleek as much as sturdy.</p><p>But all Steve saw was the thin metal chain, twisted steel from the handlebar to Tony’s wrist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Held: Extended Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>671</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cuffed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549902">Cuffed</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909">ashes0909</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Did you miss us? :D We've decided to do a little experiment, mostly for a bingo square, but also for fun, and do a remix of the beginning of Held. This part will be the first ten sections of the original Held: Season One series, but if you looove it, let us know, cause hey, we might do more. We'll be posting every day this week! Hope you guys enjoy....</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was a briefcase Tony held sometimes. He used it when they assembled, or when he had a particularly precarious board meeting to attend. It contained the suit, Iron Man red, sleek as much as sturdy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But all Steve saw was the thin metal chain, twisted steel from the handlebar to Tony’s wrist. His tan skin was a stark contrast against the cuffs, and Steve imagined sliding the suitcase out from under Tony’s hand. Holding it himself, he could lead Tony anywhere. And he’d follow. Helpless. Steve’s cock shifted in his uniform and he had to get his thoughts under control or his situation would soon be obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Steve couldn’t stop staring at the chain, so many thoughts flooding his mind. How he could use the chain to pull Tony’s arm high above his head, tug until the cuff on the end could lock around Steve’s bed frame. Bound. As long as Steve kept him chained there, he’d have Tony near. His.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once before, he had felt this urge, when Bucky had retold his Hydra ordeal to the Howling Commandos. Straps had held him down to the table, unable to move. And Steve had imagined controlling someone that way, holding them in that way, in any way that Steve wanted. In control. He’d pictured leaning over him, tightening the straps. Blood had thrummed through his body then, just as it did now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once, he had felt this urge, and then it lay forgotten under the War and ice.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd caught Tony’s attention, Steve knew, even through his sunglasses. Steve held Tony's gaze for a long moment then slid his eyes, slow and intentional, down his body to where the cuff clasped around his wrist. Steve let his focus travel in a leisurely journey back to Tony’s face, soak him in, and when their gazes caught again, Tony dropped his just as quickly, a smile teasing at his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Steve kept watching. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Under his eye, Tony’s fingers stretched, letting the cuff dance along the delicate bones of his wrist, resting within the confines and restraints of the cuff. The movement shot to Steve’s cock, and Steve kept watching, thoughts wandering over Tony like a caress as they walked into the Quinjet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He selected the seat next to Tony, just to hear his breath catch. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Order</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For as long as Tony could remember, one thing remained the same: Tony Stark pushed buttons. Even in the middle of the boardroom, his focus collided with hundreds of different variables, he poked into every possible outcome. When they fought the super-villain of the week, he knew what to do. From board meetings to the battlefield, he constructed the plan.</p><p>People always assumed that would transfer to the bedroom, as well. </p><p>Tony felt his cheeks heat at the thought, at how wrong it was. Pressing his lips together, he willed back his smirk as he handed Steve the drink with a wink. The drink Steve had ordered him to make. </p><p>It was a simple, mindless command. All the Avengers were on the common floor, setting the table for dinner. Natasha placed the silverware while Bruce handed Clint some bread rolls. Steve ordered Tony to pour him something he’d like, and he followed the command automatically. It wasn’t until Tony’s hand curled around the old fashioned, that he had the sense to chuckle at his reaction.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Steve smirked as he accepted the drink Tony presented. “You look a little amused.” Steve’s voice had turned smooth and silky. Steve had been watching him, had been for a while now, and his gaze burned with a challenge...or was it a flirtation?</p><p>Steve gestured to the chair next to him.“Sit.”</p><p>So simple, but it sent a thrill through him; Steve was constructing a plan of his own.</p><p>Tony sat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Kneel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Having the team move into Avengers Tower changed everything. For one, it forced Tony to somewhat adopt a routine. He knew that when he emerged from the workshop and wandered upstairs, everyone would be waiting for him with a box of pizza and a movie queued up. It was domestic, but Tony found he didn't hate domestic so much when it was with people he cared about. He'd come to expect to enjoy those nights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he wasn't expecting, however, was Jane. There wasn't anything wrong with Jane - she was amazing, actually, smart as a whip and turned Thor into an adorable puddle of pudding - but she was in his seat - between Natasha and Bruce - and the rest of the seats were full.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was watching him; Tony kept his eyes on Jane, but Steve's gaze burned against his neck. "Nice to see you, Jane. How's life as a Ghostbuster?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane shook her head smiling. "It was a phase meter, Tony, not a Proton Pack."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Potato, tomato." Tony stepped over the legs of his teammates, shaking his head when Bruce offered to make space. There really wasn't any space to be made. He came to a stop in front of Steve who smiled up at him, eyes shining. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Plenty of room here," Steve said, gesturing at the floor in front of him. He dug a pillow out from behind him and dropped it between his feet. "You'll be closest to the pizza too," he added, casually, "and we all know that's why you bother showing up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the team had already returned to their food and conversation, so when Tony looked back at Steve, he was the only one to see the way Steve licked his lips, just a little. The movement dragged Tony's gaze across Steve's lip along with his tongue. He knew he would sit on the pillow by Steve's feet. They both knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't mean anything. Or rather, it didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to mean anything, but Tony knew it did, just to the two of them. It was an acknowledgement, subtle thought it was, that the looks and signs and flirtations Steve had been sending Tony's way hadn't gone unnoticed. That the burning need to control that flickered in Steve's eyes hadn't gone unnoticed either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony lowered to his knees next to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The press of Steve’s denim-covered leg burned against Tony's back. He could see his bare foot next to his lap, and Tony had the fleeting thought of pulling the foot into his hands, rubbing it until he made Steve moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pizza?” Steve’s voice cut through the fantasy and Tony spun around to find Steve offering him a plate. He took it with a mumbled thank you, dropping his eyes. That was when he noticed the colour of the fabric he was sitting on: deep blue with stripes of white. It likely wasn't on purpose - or maybe it was - but it was like he had the man under him, in a way, and a shiver ran up his spine at the thought, the sounds of the movie falling away to background noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shifted. He knew he was sitting up straighter than he needed to, but Steve’s presence behind him was a warm reminder of how close they were; Tony was on his knees, put there by Steve. The invitation wasn't an order to anyone else, but accepting it was the same to Tony. He'd still given in, and that knowledge was a rush stronger than a drug in his veins. He barely registered the taste of the pizza he mindlessly worked his way through, but he could pinpoint every spot on his back where they touched one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand brushed against his neck where the nape met the edges of his hair. Steve’s strong, calloused finger dragged along the soft skin, and Tony stopped breathing, frozen until another finger joined the first, to press in and massage their way down the tense muscles of his neck. Tony stifled a groan, thankful for the dim lights and the cover of the movie, but he gave himself the small relief of relaxing against Steve’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above him, Steve made a soft, pleased noise, and a knot deep inside Tony’s stomach unraveled, warming him with satisfaction from the inside out. The sensation didn’t surprise him, despite this sudden shift in their relationship, the pointed questions and heated stares. Tony was well aware of his desire to submit, to be made to submit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for some reason, it seemed perfectly natural to want to give that power to Steve.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Upgrade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Hey, Tony?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony paused in his path across the gym, towards the treadmill, and saw Steve sitting on a weight bench in the corner. The gym was dark and quiet this late at night and Tony had been so up in his own head he hadn't even noticed Steve's presence. Now that he had, though, Steve was lit up like a beacon - the only thing worth noting in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need you," Steve said softly, and Tony's heart skipped a beat, "to do something for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." Tony dropped his towel and water bottle and crossed the room to stand in front of Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve patted the weight bench and Tony sat down with one leg bent up on the bench. They were face to face, Steve's legs on either side of the bench, his knee tight up against Tony's. He pushed even closer then dropped his hand, palm up, on the side of Tony's calf. With his other hand, he held out a wrap. "Can't seem to wrap these right today. I'm all thumbs." He smiled, but there was a hungry light in his eyes that burned in Tony's stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." Tony lifted Steve's hand and settled it more securely on his thigh. He took the wrap and pulled the loop free then twisted Steve's hand thumb-up. There was a wicked cut across the back of his hand, ending by his thumb. It was nearly healed already, but Tony could tell it'd been bad. He traced it. "You didn't say anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doesn't hurt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hooked the wrap loop over Steve's thumb and brought it around and around his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tighter," Steve said, command curling through his words like smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looked up and met his eyes, bright even in the darkened gym. "Yes, Steve," he breathed, then flinched when he realized how that sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Steve smiled. "You're good at that, Tony."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony wasn't sure if he meant wrapping or taking orders but the praise wrapped around him like a warm blanket nonetheless. He turned his focus back to Steve's hand, winding the wrap around his wrist, knuckles, thumb, and between his fingers like Happy had taught him to years ago. Steve's hand stayed limp in his grip, letting Tony twist it this way and that, in contrast to the heavy, commanding presence that vibrated off of Steve in waves. Tony wanted to bathe in it, drown in it, drink up every last drop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the room disappeared, dark and empty and pointless, but Steve glowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony fastened off the velcro and waited patiently for Steve to present him with his other hand and the other wrap. This one went faster, Tony moving with confidence now, and wound his way up, down, and around until Steve's hand was fully encased and protected. Steve made a fist once, then released it, leaving the weight of his hand resting on Tony's thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony held Steve's hand in both of his, examining his handwork with pride. There was something about Steve's hands all wrapped up - contained power, like a spring under pressure. He knew what they could do if released. Steve's fingers curled in, almost like he was trying to hold Tony's hand, and Tony traced along the tips of each of Steve's fingers with one of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so absorbed in the shape of Steve's fingers that when Steve’s other hand slid to Tony’s hip, he startled. The hand stilled and so did Tony, willing it to stay. Then it moved, sliding upwards until it cupped the back of Tony's head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve reclaimed his other hand and hooked one finger under Tony's chin, tipping up so their eyes met. He was astonishingly close now. Tony leaned into the pressure, feeling the searing heat of Steve’s hands where they touched his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve paused, Tony's head between his hands, cradled gently but held firmly, their faces only inches apart. His eyes flicked down to Tony’s mouth. Steve didn’t demand, not this time. Instead, he tipped his gaze back up to meet Tony’s and asked, “May I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The “yes” tumbled out against Steve’s lips as Tony surged forward.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tony Stark Bingo:<br/>Collaborator Name FestiveFerret<br/>Card 3137<br/>Square: T1 - Writing Format: Remix One of Your Fics<br/>Ship: Steve/Tony<br/>Rating: E<br/>Major Tags: BDSM, DomSteve, SubTony</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Settled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony drafted blueprints by this fountain often, when he could sneak away between meetings. He slid his stylus around the outline of the chestplate. Not his dimensions, as it should be, but familiar ones nonetheless. He gripped the digital pen tighter. It was easier to focus his mind on the blueprints than to let his imagination wander even further. Everything came back to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d kissed the day before, and he hadn’t seen the man since. The ambient sounds of the park and the swipe of the pen usually helped with his focus, but it seemed Steve broke through even his most reliable defenses. He remembered the pressure of his lips, his taste...then they had parted. Steve had pulled away first, pupils blown wide, but it was Tony’s phone that went off with an alarm for a meeting, and he was forced to excuse himself, a twist of regret pulling at the edges of his parting smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony detailed the chestplate, broad shoulders turning into a slim waist. It reminded him of the warm feel of Steve's large hand finding his hip for the first time. Tony hadn’t expected Steve to pull him back in for another kiss before Tony left the gym, or for Tony to be unable to catch his breath until he was halfway to the board meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was so much Tony hadn’t expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pen curved around the edge of the chestplate, tracing the pecs, and Tony was on his way to a one-way daydream of how strong this part of Steve would feel under his own hand--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that armour on the large side?” Tony stilled the pen, breath catching as Steve’s scent invaded the space between them. “Unless you’re planning on jumping a weight class or two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d jump you,” Tony muttered under his breath as Steve slid onto the bench next to him; the corners of Steve’s eyes crinkled with amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Steve teased as he leaned over to see the tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony couldn’t hold back a snort even as he tilted the blueprints away from Steve. It looked too much like him. But the way Steve's eyes kept flicking to the screen made him wonder if Steve didn’t much mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been looking for you,” Steve whispered, and the mood shifted between them with only a handful of words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Tony asked, and wanted to kick himself to stop his heart from racing as Steve moved closer to him on the bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been watching you,” Steve added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sat frozen to the bench, waiting for Steve’s next words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you like me watching.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s mind rushed through possibilities and scenarios, until he realized Steve was waiting for him to reply. “I do,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I liked kissing you,” Steve continued, voice low and Tony’s eyes shot from his blueprints to Steve’s clear, searching gaze. “Can I kiss you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes dropped to Steve’s lips. They were full and pink and wet from Steve licking across them, and Tony closed the space between them as his answer. He thought of the people around them at the park, and felt a thrill from the fact that at any moment any of them could look over and see Steve kissing him rough and deep, taking what he wanted. It didn’t matter if they ended up in the papers or the morning news; he now knew how Steve tasted.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s hand roamed to the nape of Tony’s neck and when they pulled apart, Tony wanted to roll his head back into the steady weight of Steve’s grip. He knew Steve had started speaking though attempting to listen--beyond the taste and touch and scent of Steve--was damn near impossible. But Tony managed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to be able to kiss you whenever I want,” Steve said, direct and determined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleasure rushed through Tony at the thought. “That,” he began with a wink, “would be good, handsome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want other things too,” Steve continued, and Tony’s focus left the man’s lips, moved over the bit of collarbone that peeked above his tight workout shirt, his strong arms stretching the thin fabric. The arm moved under Tony’s gaze, as Steve caressed a finger down Tony’s cheek before lifting his chin, forcing their gazes to meet head on again. “I want to do so much with you,” Steve confessed. “But for now, I’ll kiss you and touch you, whenever and wherever I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sat on the bench, in the middle of Central Park, turned on within an inch of his life, beaming. “Absolutely, sign me up, no need to read the fine print because I am--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony,” Steve cut him off with a low drawl of his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pressed his lips together, and gave Steve a succinct nod in reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Steve resumed. He leaned back on the bench, breaking the tension between them with a sudden snap as he brushed a hand over Tony’s for a moment, holding them together under the bright afternoon sun. Then Steve pulled his phone out of his track pants and sighed. “I have to go, but,” he reached over and brushed Tony’s hair back, a casual display of intimacy that left Tony breathless. “I’ll see you at home. Come to my room tonight at seven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Steve.” He leaned back on the bench, alone now, mind diving into all the things Steve might have planned. Kissing, touching, wherever and whenever. Tony wanted everything, everything Steve wanted to give him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat there for a long time, the half-finished, too-large blueprints forgotten on his lap.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Gripped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t put them down.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve's gentle whisper by the door had sent a shiver down Tony's spine. Now, surrounded by all these people, the memory of Steve's lips against his ear sent a shock straight to his groin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rubbed his thumb over the flat metal tags Steve had slipped into his hand. They had already been warmed to body temperature by Steve's hot skin when he'd handed them off, and now they felt like lava in Tony's grip. It was all he could think about, despite the press of the party around him, the music, the laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was used to faking it, so he did, a nod here, a pithy comment there, but every ounce of his attention was focused on one thing, and one thing only: Steve was somewhere in the room, watching him, knowing that one of Tony's hands was tangled in the chain of his dog tags and would stay that way all night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Tony had to slip the tags carefully from his right to his left to shake a hand, Steve was watching. He'd have seen the clenching of Tony's wrist as he re-wound the chain between his fingers, hidden deep in his pocket, the flush creeping up the back of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pretty girl in a black suit offered Tony a drink from a tray, but he refused, no matter how badly he craved the steadying heat of the alcohol. He wasn't willing to give up his one free hand and he couldn't put the tags down. Besides, the metal wrapped in the embrace of his fingers had him close to tipsy already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could still feel the close press of Steve's body behind him as he bent to whisper the lone command in his ear. The order controlled Tony's movements and occupied his mind, even though Steve himself was somewhere, several tables away. Tony imagined what else Steve would want him to do…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Smile, Tony, people are watching.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Play with them more, show me you have them, just me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't put them down.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony ran his thumb along the metal again, imagining that he could pick out the letters of Steve's name. He tried to focus on the conversation around him, but his own mind tormented him with thoughts of Steve pressed up against his back again, hot breath on his ear, metal in his hand. Steve had placed a claim on him, invisible to everyone else, but burning like a brand on Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony looked up and blue eyes met his from across the room. Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>watching. Steve smiled softly, one corner of his lips lifting up and tilted his glass in Tony's direction. Tony's hand clenched helplessly around the tags.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Touched</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony didn't remember falling asleep but a soft hand landing on the back of his neck woke him. He was sprawled out, face-down on the workshop couch, the tablet having long since slipped from his fingers. The sudden increase in his heart rate told him the soft hand was Steve's. Tony kept his eyes closed, waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want to touch you," Steve whispered in his ear, warm breath caressing his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anything," Tony murmured, sleep making his words mushy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard Steve smile. There was another rustle and Steve bent over him, his chest close enough that Tony could feel the heat against his back, then the barest brush of Steve's lips against his. Tony struggled to find breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tony. Are you going to open your eyes?" The commanding edge to his question set Tony's nerves alight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He wanted to stretch out and press their lips together, roll over and pull Steve down on top of him, the tease of Steve's barely there kiss almost too tortuous to bear, but it wasn't his move to make. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to move?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Light fingers danced down Tony’s side, then tucked up under his shirt. The cotton t-shirt and light sweat pants he wore made him feel unusually naked and exposed as he thrummed under the gaze he knew he was subject to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s hands were scattered at first, flitting from place to place - hip, to shoulder, then back down to squeeze the back of his thigh. The frantic petting began to calm, hands sliding slower and with more purpose. They caressed over the curve of his ass, along the side of his ribs and up to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve spread one palm flat for a moment, the pressure on his back pinning Tony to the couch, then he slid his hand up until his fingers curled around the back of Tony's neck. Tony swallowed hard at the twisting deep in his gut that Steve’s fingers awoke. He was hard, but he had no idea where Steve intended to take this. He was entirely in Steve’s hands, and those hands were bringing him somewhere he’d never been before. He still felt half asleep, and yet vibrantly awake at the same time. Every touch was multiplied tenfold, but his body happily stayed willing and still, no matter where Steve’s fingers alighted next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaving Tony’s neck, Steve ran his palm around his jaw and over his ear to settle in his hair. He threaded his fingers through the strands and combined a soothing massage with a slightly-too-hard tug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without visual input, Tony’s traitor mind immediately supplied images of the hundreds of things Steve could do with his hand twisted into Tony’s hair. Pull him around wherever he went, shove him to his knees, press him into the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve must have noticed the effect he was having on Tony, the way his hips ground down against the couch cushion, but he didn’t seem to have any urgency in his explorations. His fingers wandered anywhere they liked, without pattern or rhythm. Occasionally they teased up between Tony's legs, but they never showed any inclination to linger there.</span>
</p>
<p><span>What felt like hours later, Steve leaned forward again to whisper against Tony’s mouth, his hands continuing to explore.</span> <span>“I watched you in the park for such a long time, the other day. You were so beautiful, sitting there working. I could watch those hands move all day.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s lips parted of their own accord, drawing in Steve’s sweet breath, willing him closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was halfway through a run, heart pumping, right in the zone, but everything just stopped when I saw you. I knew I needed to hurry back or I'd be late for training, but I couldn’t leave without knowing that you would let me do this. I shouldn’t have bothered going into training anyway - all I could think about through the whole damn meeting was you. All the things I want to do with you. To you. The things I want you to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swallowed hard and heard Steve suck in a breath as he leaned back again. Tony mourned the loss of his warmth, but then the hand was back, sliding down his back, lulling him back into that magical place of hypersensitive peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hand ran down over the swell of Tony's ass, down his leg, over the arch of his foot, and off the end of his toes. A satisfied little groan that sounded suspiciously like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Mine,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> slipped out of Steve’s mouth, then his footsteps padded softly out of the room.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Pose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to my room. - S</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony picked up the thin card that lay on his kitchen counter. There was something exhilarating about knowing Steve had been in his apartment. Did he look around? Did he find Tony's drawers full of lube and toys and leather? What did he think?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rubbed his thumb over the card then turned right around and made for the elevator. He rattled his fingers against his thigh as it dropped, mind spinning through the possibilities. When he reached Steve's door, it opened without a knock. Steve must have told JARVIS to let him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was sitting in an armchair in the living room, and he looked up with a smile when Tony walked in. He had a dark shape in his lap. "Tony… you're here," he said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony held up the card, and Steve's smile dripped with satisfaction. That alone felt like praise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve lifted the object and it became clear it was a digital SLR camera. "JARVIS helped me pick this out. I was hoping you could help me practice with it." Steve stood and crooked a finger at Tony who shuffled across the carpet to stand in front of him. Steve's arm curled around his waist. The easy affection was new, and Tony tried not to focus on how much he enjoyed it, unsure if he was reading too much into the casual gesture. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good." Steve bent towards him until they were close enough to kiss, but didn't touch their lips together. "Come with me." Steve led the way to the den, where he'd pushed all the furniture off the thick, plush rug, leaving it exposed in the middle of the room. He hooked the strap of the camera around his neck then gave Tony's shirt a gentle tug. Tony peeled it off and tossed it aside, warming under Steve's appreciative gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so beautiful, and -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bit past my prime to be considered 'beautiful,' Cap," Tony muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are. And don't interrupt me." Steve's eyes darkened when Tony snapped his jaw shut. "I know you don't see yourself that way, but I do. I want to show you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gestured to the camera that was now up to Steve's eye. "What are you -?" The camera flashed, cutting Tony off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holographic screens popped to life around them, reflecting the image over and over - a closeup of Tony's bicep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good aim," Tony teased, turning to look at the screens. "You missed my face."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope." Another flash went off behind him and the screens changed. Huh. If it were anyone else he was seeing on screen, Tony might be impressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, I get your point, Steve. Colluding with my AI against me, I see. You don't have to -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Take off your jeans," Steve said gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony could say no and walk away. He could tell Steve it was too far or too fast, but instead, his fingers scrambled for his fly, whatever argument he'd been forming evaporated from his head. He felt like he'd been hard since Steve had felt him up in the workshop three days ago and all he wanted was to be naked and at his feet. Tony's jeans hit the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flash. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The screens filled with images of Tony's skin-tight boxer briefs stretched over his ass. "Oh," Steve breathed. "You look incredible in those."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn't know where to look - at Steve? At his own images?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was another flash but Tony’s gaze was now on the obvious bulge in Steve's pants; it made his mouth water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me,” Steve whispered, and Tony's eyes flicked back up. “God, you're stunning.” He took another photo before lowering the camera and staring at Tony. “I want to touch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nudged until Tony tipped back onto the rug then removed his own pants. He stood with one leg on either side of Tony's to take another series of photos, then he slid down to straddle him. “I'm going to touch us both at the same time. Do you want that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, and Steve did exactly as he promised. He pushed aside their underwear then wrapped his large, warm hand around both of them and started to stroke. With his other hand, he lifted the camera and photographed their cocks sliding side by side. Tony’s throbbed under the camera’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered what Steve would do with these photos. The thought of him looking at them alone, hand wrapped around himself, was enough to make him moan. The sound was broken off by Steve’s twisting hand. Tony wound his fingers into the rug to keep from bucking up into Steve's touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wanting to see you like this for a long time,” Steve murmured, picking up the pace of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gasped, so close now. Steve wanted him to come, wanted to give him pleasure, and they were surrounded by images of the two of them together. With one more turn of Steve’s hand, they both fell over the edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beautiful,” Steve whispered after they pulled apart, lying side by side on Steve’s living room rug. All Tony could do was nod in agreement.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Pose: Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony stretched out on the floor, nestling his bare skin against the plush rug. He still tingled from head to toe after his glorious, mind-blowing orgasm. Every time he caught sight of Steve’s hand for the next week, he was going to have to will away an erection. Those strong, talented hands. The tingles simmered into low arousal from how Steve’s mouth, how his cock might feel, when even the thought of them made Tony's cock twitch inside his briefs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re insatiable,” Steve said from his spot, sprawled out next to Tony, resting his chin on his palm as he turned onto his side. He considered Tony, gaze drawing like a line down his bare skin. “Roll onto your stomach for me, I’d like to see all of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grinned at his words, following his order as he rapidly hardened in his boxer briefs. His breath caught in his throat when he felt Steve pull back the waistband.  With a face pressed into the rug, he felt Steve’s hand brush against his bare ass. “So gorgeous. I want to paint your ass one day.” Tony gasped when Steve pinched lightly. “Maybe paint it red too. If you’d like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Steve. Absolutely, definitely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You agree so readily for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony snorted, not even trying to fight back a smile. “With an offer like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheeky.” Steve swatted his ass. “I bet you’re hard again.” A firm grip against Tony’s shoulder and Steve was turning him to see how right he was. “You know, I bet I could put that brilliant mind of yours to use.” Steve trailed his finger from his waistband to his nipple, circling the sensitive skin. “I’ll have you invent some fun--” he bent down to lick at the nub “--toys for us.” He bit and Tony gasped at the pleasure and pain. “I’ll draft some designs, then order you to make them.” Steve pulled back so his breath caressed his nipple. “Imagine--down in your workshop, envisioning what I intend to do to you, with everything I tell you to make. Would you like that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony arched into Steve, panting even as Steve pulled away entirely, waiting for an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony swallowed; his mind had been racing at all the possibilities but everything fell away now, except for Steve. “Yes, Steve. I’d like that very much.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Overture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The orchestra crescendoed into the middle of the first act, and Tony shifted in his seat in the front row of his box at the Met. Every movement pressed the plug into a new angle, and he floated between pleasure and overstimulation as the opera faded into the background. The fact that at any moment anyone could turn them a passing gaze only amplified Tony’s problem.</p><p>Every so often, Steve would rub his hand up and down Tony’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting along sensitive skin between his legs. The soprano sung while Tony clenched his ass around the toy. He’d known what Steve had in mind when he’d explained his date night idea, handing over the design for a vibrating plug with a remote extension. Over the next couple of days he worked on it, anticipation sparked to life under his skin; the thought of how it’d feel consumed him until the actual evening.</p><p>And Steve hadn’t even started the vibrations. </p><p>It wasn’t until the middle of the second act that Tony realized Steve hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with his plan, because he’d been waiting for what felt like hours, on edge and clenching, for vibrations that never came. Then a cellist led the strings into the next aria, and it happened, the plug jolted to life, as a smug smile crossed Steve’s face.</p><p>Tony’s whole body tensed. The plug was designed to be unforgiving, able to shift inside Tony until the vibration rested directly on his prostate. It was a feature that made his cock twitch in the middle of the workshop all throughout the crafting process, and now the sensation was far better than anything he’d imagined. He gripped Steve’s arm. Remembering the dark glint in Steve’s eye when he slid the dark blue plug inside him--Steve loved this. Tony clenched, desperate, turning into a needy mess for Steve.</p><p>“You’re doing so well,” Steve murmured into Tony’s ear. “You look stunning, all dolled up and shaking. I bet you want me to unzip your pants right here and take care of you."</p><p>Tony’s head fell onto Steve’s shoulder as the ensemble sang on the stage below. “Yes, Steve. Please.”</p><p>He chuckled, and Tony closed his eyes, the sound rolling straight through his erection to land where the plug nailed his prostate. “I’m not going to take you here, Tony. As much as you’d like that."</p><p>A moan broke from Tony’s throat as he turned his face into Steve’s neck. “Tony, you’re--Oh hell, you’re beautiful like this. I thought we could make it till the end but--no, it looks like that won’t be happening.”</p><p>Tony started to thrust into the air above his hips now, spurred on by the way Steve’s neck smelled and how he tasted when Tony ran his tongue against his pulse.</p><p>“We’re going,” Steve ordered, pushing out of his seat in the middle of a duet. When Steve pulled him to his feet, the plug shifted again. It was designed so expertly, to pinpoint the center of Tony’s pleasure, and the fact that Steve had made it--Tony moaned, stopping mid-stride as we willed away his orgasm. </p><p>When they reached the limo, Tony slipped into the backseat, desperately hard, mind racing as he wondered what Steve’s plan was. What he didn’t expect was Steve sliding to his knees between Tony’s legs. </p><p>“Huh?” Tony managed, hips jerking forward under the onslaught of stimulation. Steve pushed him back onto the seat.</p><p>“I want you to come. What did I say about things that I want?”</p><p>“You get them,” Tony breathed out.</p><p>“What do I want?”</p><p>“For me to come.”</p><p>“Very good, Tony.” Then he pushed Tony back so his ass dragged along the seat and he saw stars, the vibrator pressing even deeper. By the time he recovered, Steve had his pants unbuttoned and was pulling out Tony’s swollen cock. The first drag of Steve’s tongue around the tip almost had Tony believing he’d be able to last. But then Steve sucked down long and hard, so that Tony hit the back of his throat. His hips jolted, shifting the plug along his prostate and then Steve swallowed around his cock, muscles constricting and Tony was done for. His hips raised into Steve’s hands, cock pulsing as Tony fell over the edge, shivering with each wave of pleasure that rippled from his prostate to the tip of his cock. </p><p>Steve slipped his hand into his pocket, making the vibrations stop. Tony gasped, both missing the sensation that had tortured him for hours and almost certain he wouldn’t be able to move a muscle for a long while. But then Steve leaned back from his cock, tongue coming out to lick his abused lips. Tony wanted to reach out, could see the bulge in Steve’s pants that begged for his attention. </p><p>But instead, Steve zipped Tony back up and slid into the spot next to him. Tony knew he looked like Steve had just rocked his world, and Steve seemed more than satisfied by it. “What do you say, Tony?” Steve asked, voice taking on a low edge.</p><p>“Guess we'll have to renew my Friends of the Opera membership?” Tony guessed.</p><p>Steve didn’t seem amused, instead he leaned in and ran a finger down Tony’s cheek, hooking it under his chin, lifting so Tony met his gaze. “What do you say, Tony?”</p><p>Tony swallowed. “Thank you?”</p><p>“Good boy.” </p><p>Steve took the sleek remote out of his pocket and flicked the vibration back on. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Played</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony sat on the floor, legs splayed out, back braced against the couch. Instead of working, he was mashing buttons on a controller, eyes fixed on the huge TV across the room where rows of monsters were blasted to smithereens over and over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small sound alerted him to Steve's presence and he spotted his reflection in the TV screen, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony continued to play, but he was hyper-aware of Steve there watching him, feeling every breath the other man took deep in his gut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes later, Steve padded across the room, kicking off his shoes and socks as he went, and Tony hit pause on the game, leaning his head back against the couch cushion to look up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Keep playing," Steve said; it was gentle but it was also firm, and Tony obeyed with a rush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He started the level again and tried to focus, but it was impossible to ignore the immensity of Steve's presence behind him. Steve hooked one hand around the side of Tony's neck and tugged ever so gently until Tony braced his feet on the carpet and slithered up and back to settle on the couch between his legs, tucked up tight, hips between his thighs. He was eased backwards until they were pressed together, leaning into Steve, back to chest on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony tried desperately to keep his focus on the game, fingers flying as he dispatched monster after monster. With no controller to occupy his own hands, Steve slid his palms up Tony’s legs and skated a thumb under the hem of his t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony gasped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Keep playing," Steve murmured. "You're so good at that game." His fingers curled around Tony's hip. “I love how good you are for me too. You do as I say so easily. I can have you any way I want. I could tell you to drop to your knees, put that stunning mouth to good use. I could stretch you out naked on this rug again and tease you until you begged to come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony was instantly hard from the sound of such filthy thoughts falling out of Steve's mouth. He hoped he would do just that, but he wanted more, more than hands and mouths and toys. He wanted to feel Steve inside him, their bodies connected. He wanted Steve to take him and claim him. He wanted to beg for it, to tell Steve what his whole body craved, but he held his tongue, knowing Steve would value his patience. He could feel every inch of Steve’s body wrapped around his own, the heat of his chest burning into his back, the softness of Steve's palm on his stomach; he wanted more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve went on. “I love watching you do anything with your hands - build cars, work on the armour, play that game. Between your hands and your eyes… I'm so hopeless for you. I could watch you play all day.” It was praise and an order rolled into one. Tony took another deep breath and willed every muscle in his body to calm. He would be good. “God it’s so hard deciding what I want from you next. I want everything when it comes to you, Tony.” Steve pressed his lips to the back of Tony's neck and breathed hot air against his hypersensitive skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony's fingers fumbled on the controller as his heart skipped a beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The screen flashed red: GAME OVER. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony hung there, stilled and stunned, halfway down already. He'd completely lost track of the game under Steve's gentle touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve's hands slid down Tony's legs, pressing ever so slightly outward when they reached his knees so his legs parted automatically. "Play the game, Tony," he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony pressed restart, and as the game loaded, his eyes fixed on the dark screen. He could see his own reflection in it now, the way it had shown him Steve in the hallway, earlier. From his exposed throat to the curve of his waist, his spread legs, shaking hands, to bare feet kicked out onto the rug, Steve had access to it all. Tony’s eyes flicked back up to the needy bulge in his own pants and his cock twitched, desperate for attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of Steve’s mouth ticked up. “Gorgeous.” His arms curled around Tony's waist and he settled back against the couch cushions, holding Tony tightly against his chest. "How many more levels are there?" he asked, mock innocently, voice low and rumbly, right in Tony's ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"A lot," Tony managed to gasp out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve's thumb brushed just under the edge of his waistband, teasing the soft skin in the vee of Tony's hip. "Good."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Display 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony’s shirt snagged between them, nylon catching against Steve’s crisp, white shirt. The club attire had come from the back of Tony’s closet and with the way Steve kept looking at him, kept pulling him in for a kiss or to run his hands over the thin fabric clinging to Tony’s chest--they almost hadn’t left the Tower at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Tony had been persistent, one might even say whiny, and Steve indulged him with a smirk and a wink that made Tony wonder if maybe he had a plan after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The club was friendly. All around them, men and women were grinding, ignited under the lights and lasers. At Tony’s elbow two men kissed, sloppy and full of tongue, and it inspired Tony to turn in Steve’s arms and offer him a kiss just as messy. Steve hesitated at first, but when he finally obliged, it took Tony’s breath away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he breathed against Steve’s lips. Steve chuckled, the vibrations sending goosebumps down Tony’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enjoying yourself?” His words tickled Tony’s ear, and he was surprised by the thigh that worked its way between his legs. It felt deliciously sinful to be this carnal in a room full of people. And it was everyone. All the dancers next to him were all wrapped in their own pleasure. It had been a while since he got all dressed up--or, well, down--for a night on the town. It had grown dull, repetitive, predictable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing about this night was predictable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s lips were still at Tony’s ear. “I love watching you dance,” he said into the sensitive skin. “I want to watch you dance here, under the spotlights, in the center of the dance floor like the vixen you are.”  Steve pulled back and met Tony’s gaze with a half-cocked grin. “And maybe I want to show you off for a little bit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony's eyes widened, and the reaction only made Steve’s smirk spread, satisfied. “I bet everyone will want to get their hands on you.” Then he walked off the dance floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve didn’t move far, to a booth against the wall. Tony swayed his hips, finding the easy beat he had when he was in Steve’s arms. The music changed, and he turned on the balls of his feet, eyes closing as he spun under the spotlights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From behind closed eyes, he imagined Steve watching him, remembered large hands running across Tony’s body, heating his skin, then suddenly he didn’t have to imagine anymore because a hand was there. It was delicate, female, with scratching nails down his back. A body, smooth and heady, crowded into the space Steve once held.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over her shoulder, Tony saw Steve. The light illuminated his face enough for Tony to see his heated eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Care to dance?” The voice was husky, laced with intent and attached to a rather attractive woman with light features. Tony flicked his gaze to Steve again, saw that he had his attention, and slid his arms around her waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their hips rolled together for a moment, swaying to the music, then Tony looked back towards the booth and almost tripped over his own feet. Steve was smiling at a woman, his broad smile fixed on someone who wasn't Tony. She wore a waitress uniform, her head tossed back in laughter; Tony had to look away. Steve was just placing an order, there was no reason for that to send Tony tripping over his dance partner’s feet. Still, his focus kept drifting, and when the song ended, she moved away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony wasn’t alone long. “Your boyfriend leave?” A gruff voice asked, then all Tony could see was dark skin and muscular abs until he looked up to find interested eyes roaming across his body. “His loss.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony snorted. “We have an arrangement.”  He slid his arms over the strangers shoulders and they moved together in a push and pull over who would lead their dance. Tony tried to look over the man’s shoulder, wanting to feel Steve’s attention on him again, but when he found the booth, it was empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man’s hands slid down into the back of Tony’s jeans and he mouthed at Tony’s neck--Until another hand gripped his bicep, pulling them apart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tugged him, no words exchanged, out of the club and into the waiting car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Out,” Tony barely had the wherewithal to gasp in the direction of his driver, before Steve’s lips were on his, straddling Tony’s lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The back of the seat snagged Tony’s shirt until Steve ripped it in two right over his nipples. Tony thought fleetingly of the waitress, but it was chased away by Steve’s determined teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So pretty under the lights, Tony.” Steve bit. “Wanton too, letting everyone have a dance with you if they wanted.” Steve’s mouth broke from his chest and ran up Tony’s neck until he moaned, hips rocking up into Steve’s. “And they all wanted. How could they not? Look at you.” Then he was kissing Tony and the onslaught of Steve’s words twisted in Tony’s head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pictured Steve under the lights, beautiful people wrapped around him. The waitress was there, dancing with him like all the rest. Would they fall to their knees? Would she? Had others submitted for Steve as easily as Tony? Steve would command them all so masterfully, like he always did. The thought of him dominating anyone caused a surge of fiery arousal, the power he possessed--the moans that fell from Tony’s mouth were both involuntary and forthright. “Fuck, Steve. Touch me, please, god your hands, I want them--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A rough hand rubbed against his bulge as Steve unzipped his pants. Tony ached for him. “They got you all hot and bothered huh?” Steve whispered against his ear. “But it was me you wanted watching, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony nodded, head rolling back against the seat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Steve,” Tony moaned. “It felt so fucking hot doing what you wanted, having you show me off, do whatever you--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve broke off his words by taking both their cocks in hand. “Look so gorgeous out there--all those people--but you know who you belong to.” The hand around their cocks sped up, and Tony was unable to focus beyond the words falling so beautifully from Steve’s mouth and the feel of his Steve’s touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony,” Steve prompted, hand pulling along the head of Tony’s cock. “Who do you belong to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You--you,” Tony gasped, and Steve hummed in agreement, and with another few flicks of his wrist they were both coming apart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve pulled away with a satisfied smile and handed Tony his torn shirt. He wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him close, mumbling words that sounded like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony, Yes, Mine.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony thought of the dance floor, the waitress, of Steve, who was so perfect anyone would want him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tony knew he was Steve’s, but he couldn't help wondering if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mine </span>
  </em>
  <span>went both ways.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To be continued...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Display 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"You're dropping your shoulder."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony huffed out a frustrated breath and turned away, rolling his neck out and pinching his shoulder blades together. Steve watched the bead of sweat that dripped down under the collar of his tank top and licked his lips. Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it. But there was something bothering this beautiful man, and Steve was determined to find out what.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Try again," Steve commanded, and Tony turned back, teeth gritted tightly together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony squared up again, but his frustration cut through his skill, and his sloppy footwork made it easy for Steve to twist him around and slam him on his back on the mats. Steve shifted so Tony was pinned under him, his weight making it so he couldn't wiggle his way free. He let his hips tilt down just a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony frowned. "I'm not in the mood, Steve."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve raised an eyebrow. "Not in the mood for what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rumbled and squirmed, wiggling but not actually trying to extricate himself; Steve had him. He huffed again. "Don't be an ass."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If there are no consequences for your bad footwork, you'll never learn," Steve shot back with a smirk. He bent low and let the tip of his nose brush over Tony's. "So what are you in the mood for?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony half-heartedly tried to dislodge him. "For training," he growled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shifted a little, and he felt Tony's cock press into the crease of his hip, rock hard. "Really? Cause I'm in the mood to let you rub off on me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Steve."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve bent down and brushed his lips across Tony's ear. "Tell me to stop, Tony."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Tony didn't, instead, he started to shift his hips, rolling the ridge of his hard cock across Steve's stomach with each thrust. His breath came harder, faster even than when they'd been working out. Steve traced the edge of Tony's ear with his tongue, rocking back and forth with Tony's movements, encouraging him. Then, when Tony started thrusting up more roughly, Steve shifted his weight and dropped down, pinning Tony fully to the ground so he could barely move at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Steve," Tony gasped, a whimper tumbling out after. "Please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Something's bothering you," Steve said firmly. "What is it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been unhappy since last night, what’s wrong?” Steve leaned back a little, eyes finding Tony's. "Tony, if you don’t tell me what went wrong, I can’t protect you from it happening again. You were the one who wanted to go out, but clearly something upset you. What was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something sad and conflicted twisted up Tony's expression, and it broke Steve's heart that he could make him look like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -” Tony started, and Steve rubbed the inside of his wrist with one thumb. “It’s not a big deal. I just - The waitress. Did you...would you have taken her home, if I hadn’t been there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve considered Tony for a long time, until the relentless gaze made him flush and squirm under him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Steve finally asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony grit his teeth. “I guess - I realized I don’t really like the idea of you doing this with other people. Though, you totally have the right to, we didn't talk about exclusivity, but it just… She seemed nice. And you surprised me, Cap, with how experienced you clearly are, so I just thought maybe you… maybe...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tony," Steve breathed, and Tony's eyes cut away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve braced one hand on the mat and used the other to cup Tony's cheek, drawing his gaze back. Tony's frustrated pout was replaced with something serious and honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, now. It’s okay to ask for things you want, you know.” Steve pressed his forehead against Tony’s. “I want you, not her. You’re mine, I’m yours. You inspire me to be a quick learner - I'm not with anyone else and I don't want to be. Is that okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony let out a long, shuddering breath. “Yes, that's okay. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve flashed him a smile. “I liked watching you dance. It made me want to take you and mark you up in front of everyone. That's why I couldn't wait until we got home, had to have you right there in the limo. I needed to make sure you really were mine. I want to show you every day how much I'm yours. I'm really sorry if I made you feel like you weren't.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." Tony's eyes were wide and completely glued on Steve's now, pupils blown and focus hazy, like he was slipping under just from Steve's possession and the firm pressure of his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now," Steve murmured, remembering the way Tony's hips had rolled and gyrated in the club and wanting to feel that for himself. "Are you going to keep sulking? Or are you going to get yourself off?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony bit his lip and went kitten-weak under Steve, sinking into the mats with a dazed smile. “I’m going to do whatever you want me to, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Cuffed: Reprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Bring me your briefcase, Tony.” The handcuff scraped against Tony’s wrist, connecting him to the case. For a moment, Tony hesitated, his mind flashed to Steve licking the sensitive skin, barely brushing the metal with his tongue. Tony’s cock twitched as he did what he was told, walking out of the elevator to where Steve sat, waiting, watching Tony enter the penthouse with the armor briefcase fixed to his wrist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s gaze flicked from Tony’s face down to his suit pants. “Affected already? We’ve barely even started.” He put his hand out for the case and Tony’s blush deepened--he hadn’t seen Steve in a day and now he shows up, in Tony’s apartment, with orders, and he wasn’t supposed to react? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I just missed you.” Tony winked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smirked, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the case, next to where the cuff connected to it. “I can see that.” He let his fingers brush against the metal chain before tugging lightly, just hard enough to make the chain pull Tony a step closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. He pulled back, eyes dancing. “You have something for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swallowed. “I do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to unfasten the cuff that’s still around the handle.” Steve tugged at it, making the metal clink loudly throughout the living room. “And fasten it around my wrist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s hands moved to his pocket, sliding out a key. Blood rushed in his ears, his heartbeat flying as Steve stood from the couch and held his wrist out for the cuff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go,” Steve said as the metal clicked closed around his wrist, then he looked up and caught Tony’s gaze. “Now you’re bound to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sucked in a breath, gripping at the chain that joined both cuffs, gaze following its links up to the handcuff that circled Steve’s wrist. They were connected; he was tied to Steve. It was something he had thought about, when he first saw Steve’s attention drift to the briefcase, to the weight of the metal around his wrist, but the reality was enough to stop him short. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tugged, just hard enough to bring Tony to his knees--so certain and sure of his movements. It was easy to see Steve’s strength, remember that the person he was attached to could break him easily, if he wanted, and Tony had given him that power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve walked backwards, letting the chain grow long between them. When it was taut, Steve stopped and met Tony’s eyes. The heat and intent he found there rocked Tony to his core. “Look at you. Tying yourself to me, waiting for me. So beautiful on your knees.” Steve’s perfect lips lifted into a half-smile. “Come to me,” Steve said, tugging lightly on the chain so Tony moved forward until he was on all fours, right there in the middle of his own living room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Breathtaking,” Steve whispered, almost to himself. Then his gaze lifted and locked onto Tony’s. “And mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Tony breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chain pulled at him again, a slight jostle that brought him closer to Steve. Tony’s eyes caught the sizable tent in Steve’s pants and he shivered at the thought of making him hard. Steve liked this, claiming Tony, having him on his knees. Steve liked them tied together. Whenever their eyes met, Tony could read in them all the heated, unwavering possession Steve felt and Tony wanted it. Wanted everything Steve chose to give him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come to me,” Steve ordered. “All the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony paused, almost certain Steve meant for him to crawl, even if that wasn’t the order he gave him. But Tony wanted to crawl for Steve, preen under for him and show him how good he could be, just the thought of it causing his dick to twitch against the stiff confines of his business suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I have to repeat myself?” Steve hadn’t dropped their joined gazes, and Tony kept it as he answered his question by starting to crawl. The chain loosened as he went, proof that he was tied to Steve, that he was getting closer to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still all dressed for a business meeting. You look obscene.” Steve paused. “Sit back on your heels for me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s hand dragged through Tony’s hair, the brush of the metal cuff against the strands causing Tony’s eyes to fall closed as he leaned into the touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By my side and bound to my wrist….Kneel there, while I think about what I want to do with you.” His grip tightened in Tony’s hair, making him groan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Steve.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Kneel: Reprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second Steve came through the door, he was all over Tony. Steve crowded him up against the wall, their feet tripping together. Tony felt hot breath against his neck and immediately spiraled down into the wonderful, hazy place where all that mattered was Steve.</p>
<p>“On your knees,” Steve growled out, eyes flashing. His hand dug into Tony’s hair and guided him roughly to the floor. He knelt, legs spread, the backs of his feet pressed against the wall.</p>
<p>Tony ran his hands up Steve’s legs, his cock twitching at the groan it pulled from Steve. Steve tipped forward until his forehead pressed against the wall, body angled over Tony.</p>
<p>The world disappeared; Tony was safe here, in the curve of Steve’s body, surrounded by nothing but him.</p>
<p>Steve’s hands flew to his fly, scrambling to get the zipper down, but when Tony tried to help, Steve pushed his hands away. He abandoned the fly half-way down to reach under his shirt and pull out his dog tags. He unhooked them from his neck and handed them to Tony, who wrapped the chain around his fingers and held them tight. Steve finally got his pants undone and pushed them down, rushed, wild.</p>
<p>The more Tony saw him lose control over himself, the stronger Steve’s control over Tony became. He wanted nothing more than to give in to Steve’s command.</p>
<p>“I need your mouth,” Steve hissed out, one elbow braced against the wall, head down. Tony tipped his chin up and met Steve’s fiery gaze. “Drop the tags if you need me to stop. I'll hear it.”</p>
<p>Tony’s hand clenched around the tags, metal digging into his palm, cock straining in his jeans. He was so eager, desperate, there was nothing else in that moment but Steve’s words, and Steve’s eyes, and hunger.</p>
<p>“Yes, Steve.” His voice was barely a whisper.</p>
<p>Steve’s thumb ran across Tony’s lips, then parted them and slid inside. The soft pad skated along the sharp edge of his teeth and then over the flat of his tongue. Tony opened eagerly, letting Steve push his thumb in, then wrapped his lips around it, sucking, showing him how good it would be.</p>
<p>Tony heard Steve moan, then the hand on his jaw clenched, the gentle fingers turning harsh as they pried his jaw open. Before he had time to suck in a full breath, Steve’s hips pressed forward and Tony’s mouth filled with his hard cock.</p>
<p>Steve gave him no time to adjust, pushing all the way in. Tony barely had time to savour the salty taste of precum before Steve’s cock hit the back of his throat, and it was all he could do to keep from gagging. He focused on relaxing, opening up to take in all of him as Steve set a punishing rhythm, thrusting into Tony’s willing mouth.</p>
<p>“Ah- Tony, your mouth is so hot. You take my cock so well. So filthy.” Steve squeezed the base of his dick once, then ran his thumb along the corner of Tony’s mouth, spreading spit down his chin. The hand traveled back up to Tony’s hair and gripped tight. Tony jerked his head back against the wall, thrilling in the pull of those clever fingers. “I could use you all day, choking on my cock, whatever I want.”</p>
<p>Tony sucked hard, swirling his tongue against the head, swallowing down as much as he could. Steve bucked forward relentlessly, barely letting Tony gasp in a breath between unforgiving thrusts.</p>
<p>Steve’s rhythm sped up. Tony’s head banged painfully against the wall again, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in the exquisite pleasure of being Steve’s plaything. His own erection strained, forgotten, in his pants, his hands clasped impossibly tight around the dog tags, terrified that if he dropped them by mistake, Steve would stop, leaving him bereft.</p>
<p>“Mine,” Steve hissed. “God, Tony, you’re mine.” Steve’s body curled in even more over him, his words melting into inarticulate groans. The hand gripped his hair tighter and then suddenly Tony’s mouth was abandoned as Steve pulled out. Steve collapsed against the wall and his bracing hand dropped to his cock just in time as he groaned and came all over Tony’s face.</p>
<p>Tony’s lips parted, his tongue darting out of its own volition to sneak a taste, even as he gasped in desperate lungfuls of air. Their eyes met and held, Steve panting down from his orgasm, finding their breath again, together. Tony knew what he must look like, come dripping down his cheek, flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving.</p>
<p>“You’re perfect,” Steve whispered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Wanted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony twisted his hands in the sheets, still fully clothed but panting and wild as Steve grinded down on top of him. “Steve, please,” he gasped out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wicked smile lit up Steve’s face. “Please? What is it you want, Tony?” Steve’s hips rolled forward, just right to send an electric jolt through Tony’s stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony groaned, mouth opening and closing a few times. “I want you to fuck me,” he whined.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stopped the rolling hips. “Is that so?” He leaned forward, radiating command. “God, you're so pretty when you beg. But I think that's going a little fast, don't you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony twisted his hip up in desperation, grinding his erection against Steve’s ass, but a hand smacked down on his chest, holding him flat. He whined, a mix of arousal and frustration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Tony?” His voice was teasing now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony huffed. He wanted to feel Steve's cock pressing deep inside him, but to earn his reward, he had to play the game. The pressure on his chest kept him pinned flat, his cock throbbing harder. “I want you to kiss me," he tried, and Steve smiled and bent over to press their lips together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve turned the kiss filthy fast, sucking Tony’s tongue into his mouth, nipping at his lips and gripping his neck to pull him close. Steve kissed him until his lips were sore and tingling. Then he pulled back, the hand on his neck sliding up to cup Tony’s jaw, thumb petting affectionately along Tony’s swollen lower lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Tony?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - I want to feel you. Naked.” Tony begged silently that it wasn't pushing too far with what Steve had in mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rocked up to his feet and stood over Tony on the bed, then stripped off his clothes, eyes fixed on Tony’s face, while Tony’s wandered over the beautiful skin he revealed. When he was naked he sunk down again and worked Tony’s clothes off until he could press their bodies together, skin to skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heat radiated off Steve, and Tony let his eyes slip closed for a moment, reveling in the feel of him. Lips brushed his ear, and Steve whispered again, “What do you want, Tony?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to touch me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve's hand immediately skated up Tony's side, palm flat over his chest. He tweaked his nipple with one thumb. "What do you want?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I - I want your mouth on me." Tony shifted to rub his hard cock against Steve's smooth stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve grinned again and pressed his face to Tony's neck. He breathed out hot air then licked softly and followed it with a press of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Steve…" Tony whined. Steve's mouth on his neck was almost hotter than on his cock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve licked the curve of his ear. "Tell me what you want, baby."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want you inside me,” Tony begged, writhing with desperation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Please."</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Tony knew there was every chance Steve would keep making him wait, but he couldn't hold the words in any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smiled, then reached over him to rifle through his bedside table drawer. Tony took the opportunity to run his tongue up Steve’s chest and over one of his nipples. Steve sat back on his heels, nestled between Tony’s legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony writhed in anticipation. “Relax,” Steve commanded, touching two firm fingers to Tony’s hip, pinning him to the bed. He let out a breath and his whole body sunk into the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first press of Steve’s fingers had Tony gasping already. They worked him open slowly and gently, curling just right to make Tony see stars. Warm and demanding and so different from the feel of the plug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned forward over Tony, grinning down at him. “You look so wrecked already. Tell me again what you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Steve.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony tried to find air to suck in. “You. Inside me. Please, fuck me, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve growled, low and possessive, then bent down to run his tongue along Tony’s stomach, from the crease of his hip to his belly button. His cheek teased along the length of Tony’s cock making him grit his teeth so hard he swore he heard a crack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whined out another, “please,” more whimper than word, and Steve finally scrambled up and eased Tony’s legs further apart. Steve fiddled with the lube some more then suddenly he was there, pressing in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was on him and around him and inside him and everything else was gone. Steve had claimed him before, with words, with his mouth, with his toys, but the feeling of him sliding into his body for the first time was enough to stop the world turning. He gripped Steve’s shoulder, breathing in with each inch, giving himself over to Steve completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was too much at first and then suddenly it was just right. Steve didn’t give him much time to adjust, working up quickly into a breath-stealing rhythm while whispering an endless stream of praise into his ear. Tony braced his feet against the mattress and tipped his hips ups until he found the perfect angle and he moaned, scrabbling desperate, clawing hands along Steve’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He responded by increasing the speed of his thrusts. He wrapped his slick hand around Tony’s cock and began stroking him with matching intensity. It wasn’t long before the spiral of arousal tightened into unbearable tension, and Tony knew he wouldn’t last much longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S- Steve,” he choked out. “So close.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Tony?” Even now, even wild and breathless, Steve managed to slip that edge into his words that had Tony’s cock twitching helplessly in his grip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to see you come.” Tony could barely get the words out, Steve’s thrusts pushing the air out of his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve groaned and clenched his hand around Tony’s arm, squeezing hard enough to bruise. His rhythm stuttered as he pressed forward and came hard, his perfect face twisted in ecstasy. That look, the hand that still worked Tony’s cock relentlessly, the feeling of Steve pulsing deep inside him, it was too much, and Tony tumbled over after him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once their breathing slowed, Steve pitched forward, burying his face in Tony’s neck. “You’re so good for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony beamed under the praise, still coming down from his orgasm-high. Steve’s fingers furrowed their way through his hair, setting him practically purring. “Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Steve smile into his shoulder. “You've got me.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Parted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing Tony noticed was the smell of Steve’s aftershave. He nuzzled into the pillow and stretched, long and loose into Steve’s sheets. It had been fourteen days since Steve’s departure and this morning, like the last two, Tony woke up in Steve’s bed. Sadly, alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, not completely alone. There was one order Steve had given him before he departed. “JARVIS has security footage of my entire suite, doesn’t he? Send me access to the bedroom footage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way the words tingled at the base of his spine didn’t leave him when Steve departed, and they were reinforced everyday, despite being parted, by Steve watching him, contacting him, teasing him, whenever he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed he wanted, right now. “Good morning, Tony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sat up at the sound of Steve’s voice, anticipation building as he looked towards the television where Steve’s face popped on screen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a hotel across the country, Steve sat at the foot of his own bed, shirt unbuttoned and tie hanging loose, exposing his collarbones. His legs were parted and his hands were running up and down his thighs as he stared at Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony had been half hard from some half forgotten dream featuring the man on the screen. He moved to wrap his hand around his cock when he heard a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span> from Steve. His hand dropped away and he brought his gaze back to the screen. Steve’s eyes heated with intent. “Not until I say,” Steve ordered. “Place those talented hands on the bed.” Tony did, clenching at Steve’s sheets. “Good.” Steve’s eyes fell to Tony’s cock, his stare a warm caress all on its own. Tony wanted to lift his hips into it but knew Steve wanted him still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the nightstand, I told Jarvis to add a bottle for me to your order. Unless -” a half-smirk interrupted his words “-unless you’ve already found it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shook his head. He hadn’t thought to look, not because he hadn’t thought Steve indulged in touching himself but because… “I was waiting for you.” Being in Steve’s bed was a temptation but without Steve here to touch him, to tell him what to do--It wasn’t the same. He reached for the lube, watching Steve with hooded eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touch yourself for me.” Steve’s heated whisper shot straight to Tony’s cock. “Open yourself up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s breath caught as the filthy words fell so gently in Steve’s husky voice. He poured the lube onto his fingers too quickly, spilling some onto his thigh and Steve chucked. “So eager.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony moaned in agreement and reached around to touch himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” Steve interrupted, and Tony looked up to see him gripping the base of his own cock. “Damn, you’re gorgeous, listening to my every word, following orders while I’m states away. You want it so much but you stopped because I said to. Beautiful.” Tony warmed at the praise, straining to stay still until Steve spoke again, then that warmth twisted with searing anticipation. “In the nightstand, second drawer this time, open it and pull out your plug. Eyes on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony did as he was told, fumbling in the drawer to feel for the familiar cone-shaped metal object he had spent hours making. The entire time, he’d been half hard, thinking about this moment, a dozen times like this, where Steve would order him to use it on himself. He pulled it out, resisting the urge to look. “Lean back,” Steve whispered. “Let me see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Following Steve’s order, Tony leaned his weight back onto his elbows and brought the plug to the sensitive spot under his balls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look so tempting, legs spread for me. Look.” Tony’s eye flicked down to his hand and he saw the tip of the dark blue plug pressing into his body. The sight of it made his hips jerk, bringing the tip of the plug further into his body. “Easy,” Steve whispered from the other side of the screen. “Go nice and slow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony clenched against the tip. The glow of the arc reactor hitting the metal as he dripped more lube on the plug before looking up at Steve. His hand sped on his cock. “Go on..” Steve ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first breach of the toy made his toes curl into the pressure. He moaned and heard Steve mirror the sound before he started a steady stream of praise. “So beautiful, you listen so well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony had to grit his teeth as the wide base of the plug slid past the tight rim and then it was in, just like last time, put there by Steve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On screen, Steve pulled out the remote and the plug buzzed to life deep inside his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” he moaned. “Feels so good.” Tony gripped the sheets as the toy moved inside of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at me.” And Tony met his eyes again, saw as his hand blurred around his own cock and groaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, please,” Tony breathed, unsure what he was even begging for. He wanted Steve here in this room, in this bed, overwhelming him so easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lie back,” Steve said. “Touch yourself for me.” His words were heated and Tony complied with a moan. “So good. Waiting in my room for me. I want you there every night, right where I can find you-” Steve broke off, gasping as his hand twisted and Tony matched it. “Mine, right Tony?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, hand mirroring Steve’s pace, the toy driving him wild. “Yes,” he puffed the word out in a breath. The toy vibrated against his prostate until Tony came across his chest, hitting the arc reactor. He watched as Steve fell apart after him, come spilling over his hand and Tony wanted to crawl through the screen and lick it all away, but instead he fell back against Steve’s bed and chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something funny?” Steve asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt lighter than air, better than he had since Steve had left. He shook his head against Steve’s pillow. “Oh nothing, just delirious over here, don’t you worry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a compliment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony leaned up on his elbows, watching as Steve wiped his hand with a tissue. “You should,” Tony paused. “When will you be back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s hand paused. He looked up and met Steve’s gaze. “Soon,” a beat, then, “I miss you, Tony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A grin pulled at the edges of Tony’s lips, sheepish as he gestured towards Steve’s bed. “Me too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look good there,” Steve assured. “I meant it, stay there while I’m away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swallowed, nodding. “I’d like that.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Watched</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been 22 days, 14 hours and 37 minutes since Steve last had his hands on Tony Stark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he was counting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now he was back in New York. He had two days away from SHIELD. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Needing </span>
  </em>
  <span>more than he ever had in his life - it had been torture, knowing what was waiting for him here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tony was out taking photos with fans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned against the car, sharp eyes finding Tony across the park. He was laughing and talking with a group of excited young people - mostly girls with hearts for eyes. He encouraged them to snap picture after picture, smiling broadly every time, winking for the camera.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony photographed so well. Especially when he was naked, hard, and sprawled out on Steve’s rug. Steve shifted as his pants tightened uncomfortably, holding his leather jacket in front of him strategically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s suit was perfectly tailor made, hugging every curve, and Steve’s eyes traced the lines of his ass, memory filling in what was hidden by his clothes. His hands twitched, wanting to grip those hips, press against that chest, push and guide and grab.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tony would just go - let himself be manhandled by Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered what Tony would do if Steve shoved him down here, in the middle of the park. Or if he sent him a dirty message - they’d traded enough texts while Steve was gone. He could text him, “drop,” and see what he would do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony would pull out his phone, read it, and his knees would hit the pavement without hesitation. He’d look around - his eyes would find Steve easily in this crowd. Those eyes. Tony didn’t even know what he gave up with those eyes, gazing hazily at Steve through thick eyelashes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked away and took a few breaths, willing his rapidly hardening cock to wait a goddamn minute. But at the same time, he was sinking into wild desperation. There were so many things he wanted to do to that man and he didn’t know how long he would have to do them, how long this would last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stretched out, hands bound behind his back. What a sight that would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could keep him on his knees by the couch, ready to suck him off whenever he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had plans for the plug, for the cuffs, for Tony’s mouth and ass and cock and back and neck and how those eyes would look up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t wait. Nevermind the fans - he needed Tony. He marched across the park and sidled up next to him. Tony was laughing, telling a story about something. The second Steve saw an opening, he grabbed the grinning Tony by the arm, apologized loudly to the group, and started dragging him back towards the car. Once free, he pulled him close so he could hiss in his ear, “I need to have you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s grin vanished as his mouth fell open with a sharp inhale. His eyes widened in shock, a hot blush painted his cheeks, and his step faltered. Steve released him, shoving his hands in his back pockets so as not to give the paps something indecent to film, and pressed his lips against Tony's ear. “As soon as we walk through the front door, I want you naked and begging. You’d better be on your hands and knees and getting yourself ready for me before I even have my shoes off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched those beautiful, brown eyes slip into the soft, passive place that made Steve’s heart want to burst. He went down so fast and so well for Steve. It was gorgeous. “God, you’re so perfect. Always ready and willing, aching to be told what to do. I’m going to keep you.” He swallowed the forever that threatened to spill out. “I’m going to have you right there on the front hall rug and you’re going to take it, cause you’re so good for me, Tony. You’re always so good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shot him a hazy smile, tripping over his feet again in his haste to get to the car. Steve bustled him into the passenger seat then scrambled around to the other side, cursing his past self for choosing to drive instead of taking a cab.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a second to grip the steering wheel and breathe, then glanced over at Tony. He was smiling still, slumped loosely in his seat, one hand resting lazily on his crotch, framing his obvious erection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And his eyes were fixed on Steve, staring at him as if nothing else in the world existed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Dropped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony had woken to lips trailing along his spine, and he couldn’t quite shake the sensation even now, hours after it had passed. The morning brought with it restrained wrists in leather, Steve’s hand twisting in a teasing pleasure, falling over the edge, into the place where everything was warm and Steve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The press might be surprised to know that he’d never woken in bondage before. Steve had been so close, hands dancing along his skin, and Tony was unable to move, able to give in, because he trusted Steve enough to be bound by him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now they were hungry. Or at least Steve was. Tony felt content to follow him to the elevator, always impressed by his super soldier’s appetite, and he was still warm and loose in Steve’s arms. “Elevator?” He brushed his forehead into the dip between Steve’s shoulder blades and revealed in the weight of Steve’s arms around his body. “We could’ve just had something sent up,” he thought aloud, but didn’t really care much about the answer. It was warm, and he could still feel sparks of pleasure against his wrists every time his shirtsleeves brushed against them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re adorable like this,” Steve commented, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “So lax, affectionate. That space where--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ding</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony never found out about the space, because the elevator doors opened to the common floor. Which had food. Food Steve wanted and that he had said Tony needed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t expected Rhodey and Pepper sipping tea at the table, or Happy on the sofa with a newspaper. Tony turned to Steve on instinct, even though he knew the others didn’t know about them, that he had no idea whether Steve wanted him to stand this close, or hold his hand, this out in the open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve dropped his hand, moved it to the small of Tony’s back, nudging him out of the elevator. The others stared at them; their pajama pants and sleep shirts were a dead giveaway. It was more than obvious at this time in the morning, and from how close they were standing. It was impossible for anyone to think anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did Steve realize that they’d just outed themselves? He was walking away now. Maybe he’d realized how they looked and was trying to cover it up. Just a moment ago, he'd been so close and so warm and now he was walking away. It had to be because they knew--Or maybe he had no idea that they’d figured it out, maybe he was walking away so that they wouldn’t figure it out. They’d never discussed--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sure hand on his bicep turned Tony. It wasn’t until then that he realized he had been following Steve, that they had reached the kitchen, and Steve had turned to face him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This okay?” Steve’s words were close and calm. His hands came up to rub against Tony's arms. Tony started to warm again, started to push away the spiral of uncertainty, because Steve was close and warm and calm. Steve nodded towards their teammates. He wasn’t backing away. If anything, he stepped closer, hand dropping to run a finger over where the bindings had held Tony's wrist that morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Letting them in on us?” Tony asked softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had no intentions of hiding us away.” Steve’s eyes fell to Tony’s lips and even with his back towards the others, he could feel their presence, but he seemed to respond to Steve no matter what, when he looked at his lips like that. “Sound good to you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one answer Tony had to that question. Snuggling into Steve’s warmth, he found that space again that was just Steve and sparks of pleasure. “Absolutely.” And he let Steve bring their lips together, right there in front of everyone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Dropped: Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Rhodey:</b>
</p>
<p>Rhodey looked up when Steve and Tony tumbled out of the elevator in rumpled sleep clothes, hair standing on end. He shot a quick glance at Pepper, who pressed her lips together. So that confirmed that something was going on between those two. He should’ve learned never to bet against Pepper. Sure, they’d been making moon eyes at each other--when they hadn’t been at one another's throats. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that their frustrations would be let out <em> like this. </em></p>
<p>Steve led the way into the kitchen, flicking his gaze over to meet Rhodey’s for a second. Rhodey swept his eyes over them again. Tony was never one to follow--Unless...were they…? </p>
<p>When Rhodey looked closer, he realized how much Tony had changed over the last few weeks; it must have had something to do with Steve. Tony had been less snappish, appeared better rested, better fed. He also looked two sheets to the wind, but not because of a morning cocktail.  Droopy and loose with pleasure--</p>
<p>Rhodey realized he’d been staring and dropped his gaze back to his phone. When he flicked them up again, Tony and Steve were in the kitchen, smiling and leaning into a kiss. </p>
<p>Rhodey had the fleeting worry that if this went south--he hadn’t seen Tony look this happy in a long while--but he tried to push his worries away. Tony would do what Tony wanted to do, and obsessing over what might happen would be a waste of time. Besides, Rogers was a good man, and Rhodey was pretty sure he could trust him. He was happy for his friend, because he hadn’t seen him look that content in a long time…if ever. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Pepper:</b>
</p>
<p>Steve padded into the kitchen, trailing Tony in his wake. Pepper knew immediately that something was...not off per se, but definitely shifted between the two.  They had clearly just been thoroughly enjoying themselves, but Tony enjoyed plenty of people, and Pepper very rarely saw him as open and vulnerable as <em> that</em>. She shot Rhodey a look, pressing her lips together. Steve appeared to barely be aware of them, just as consumed by Tony. It was nice to see them both so relaxed. </p>
<p>But this was more than just relaxation. </p>
<p>Pepper tipped her head in curiosity, watching. Steve caught Tony’s arm and then his gaze, whispering something to him. Tony gazed up at him with open adoration, and that was when it hit her. </p>
<p>She’d seen that look before: Tony was down, hard. </p>
<p>But to see Tony so open with his scening, to see him go down and stay that way as he went about the Tower, that was new. Usually, it was fleeting, and in private, hidden away moments where he indulged with someone he trusted. </p>
<p>And now he clearly trusted Steve. Steve was more than trustworthy, but that didn’t change the fact that things between them had progressed quickly. </p>
<p>Pepper wondered if Steve knew the responsibility behind the power he yielded. On the battlefield, yes, but what about off it…</p>
<p>Steve bent down to kiss Tony solidly on the lips, and he smiled dopily at him, leaning into his broad chest. Happiness radiated from them both, and with the way Steve was gazing at him, Pepper was sure she had no real reason to be concerned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Happy:</b>
</p>
<p>Happy heard the elevator doors open and looked up to see Tony and Steve amble in, still in pajamas, clinging to each other. Well, shit. He wasn’t expecting that. Not the two of them together, and not this early in the morning.</p>
<p>He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, trying to keep his eyes from darting around too much.</p>
<p>The pair stood close together in the kitchen, Steve’s hand wrapped around Tony’s waist.</p>
<p>God, this was awkward, but if he stood up and left now, it would draw everyone’s attention to him. Someone might ask him what was wrong and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.</p>
<p>Happy slid down on the couch, wishing he could ask JARVIS to teleport him anywhere else. Why hadn’t he gone down to the SI mess hall for lunch instead of the Avengers Tower kitchen?</p>
<p>He risked another look over at Tony and Steve.</p>
<p>They were kissing.</p>
<p>Oh, thank god. That was the perfect distraction.</p>
<p>Maybe now Tony wouldn’t notice that the package he'd asked him to courier the day before still sat on the coffee table and Happy had his feet up, eating Clint's cinnamon buns instead of delivering it.</p>
<p>Happy needed JARVIS to start giving him some sort of secret warning signal or something, but at least today, Tony was distracted enough that he could slip out undetected.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Watched: Reprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun shone through the window, it was midafternoon and Tony Stark was horny. He had woken with Steve; sent him off to SHIELD with a muffin and a kiss, and now he was here, sitting in his penthouse living room alone--what was that quote about idle hands? Tony looked at the tablet on the coffee table, thought of looking up the quote but the energy coursing through his veins led to a few different clicks on the keyboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Porn. A modern marvel, one he’d indulged in on and off for decades, though less so lately, considering how busy Steve's insatiable appetite kept him. But he was going to be alone for most of the day, and again, he was horny. It was easy enough to find, but as he scrolled past the thumbnails of nameless men and women, none of it caught his eye, all of it seemed predictable; none of it pushed his buttons the way thinking of Steve did lately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he had an idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“JARVIS, pull up the records of me and Steve the last few months. Different rooms on a different screen, and then give me an editing toolkit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir. All the records would be copious, are there any factors or variables I can use to limit the search parameters?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe it was the tone, the one that an AI shouldn’t be able to replicate, but of course one of his own creation managed. JARVIS was already judging him, mind as well be blunt about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pull up the sex, JARVIS. I want to watch the fucking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JARVIS didn’t begrudge him a reply, which only furthered what Tony perceived as judgement. Instead, he answered by displaying a series of thumbnails on each screen, rows and rows of Steve and himself, frozen in place in various delightfully compromising positions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first was obviously from their photoshoot, Steve testing out his new camera. Tony flushed at the memory, seeing himself in the center of the room, Steve focused on every detail of him, spread out on the same carpet. Next thumbnail was from Steve’s bedroom. Tony’s hands were tied together and Steve was shirtless, standing over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony started sorting the videos into folders, different themes and genres. From three different videos he captured clips of himself and dropped them in a folder entitled: “Kneeling Compilation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would Steve think if he knew of these locked away treasure troves? He wondered if the man had discovered internet porn yet--if he’d even thought about security footage. “JARVIS, on the off chance that the Captain requests access to any files of this nature, show him these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause. “Yes, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just the thought of Steve going through these, seeking them out, made Tony's cock twitch in his lounge pants. “JARVIS, restrict access to the penthouse for anyone other than Steve.” He pressed the palm of his hand against his cock through the soft satin and kept scrolling, clicking, watching bits and snipping them. Facials, bondage, Steve loved to see him writhe on the bed, waiting. Loved the way he looked when he was loose and satiated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he had one video mapped out he pressed play. Steve’s voice rang out from the tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“By my side and bound to my wrist….Kneel there, while I think about what I want to do with you.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, Steve.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounded wrecked. Tony slid his hand into his pants as he watched Steve let go of his hair. On screen, his eyes were hazy, following Steve as he walked away from Tony, the metal chain connecting them going taut.  He remembered how his dick had twitched inside his business suit then, just like it did now in his lounge pants, and he gripped the base of his cock when he saw the desire in Steve’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the time, he remembered wanting to be good for Steve, wanting to preen under him and show him how good he could be, and this time, Tony could see the way it affected Steve, the way his body reacted to Tony crawling across the floor for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew what was coming but he still gasped when Steve fell to his knees behind him, wrapped his hands around him and started to unbutton his dress shirt. Only this time, he could see the devious tilt to Steve’s smile, the way he took a moment to run his gaze along Tony’s neck and profile before starting on the first button. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t stop at Tony’s shirt buttons either, his nimble fingers worked Tony’s belt buckle, then made quick work of the rest of his pants until he wrapped his hand around Tony’s cock, metal of the cuff brushing against his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Tony swore, hand speeding up to match Steve’s on the screen, as his own moans echoed throughout the penthouse. Words he hadn’t even remembered saying, a litany of curses and pleading and falling apart from Steve’s talented hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t going to last much longer, either now or on screen. Then the scene cut and the camera angle shifted until Tony had the perfect view of Steve’s hand wrapping around the head of Tony’s cock, clenching tight. Tony watched, remembering it all, feeling it all again and it rushed through him as he tumbled over the edge after himself on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he heard a throat clearing behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony spun around. “Steve! I, uh--” He glanced back towards the screens hovering with thumbnails of their erotic escapades. “Surprise? Everyone loves a home video.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gaze slid over him, eyes darkening as he took in Tony’s palm, still wrapped around his cock. It twitched under the attention. “Home video, you said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, about to move his hand away when Steve made a disapproving sound. “Stay like that,” he ordered as he walked around the couch, coming to sit next to Tony, so close their thighs brushed. “And show me.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Bound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony struggled against the binding leather around his wrists - not because he wanted to break free, but because he needed to know that he couldn’t. There was no give at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shifted on the balls of his feet as Steve circled him, brushing light fingers over his bound hands. He came to stand in front of Tony, eyeing up his naked body with open hunger. Tony took a deep breath in and let his eyes drift shut, his arms relaxing behind his back. Steve was in control now; he didn’t have to think, he didn’t have to move, he didn’t have to want, until Steve told him to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soft hands brushed over his chest, down to his waist and back up to wrap around behind his neck. He let Steve pull him in for a gentle kiss, the coarse fabric of his khakis a harsh nip against his bare skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s voice was soft, simple, and commanding. “You’re going to do what I ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” It didn’t seem to come from his mouth, it came from somewhere else, far away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, what?” Steve demanded, shooting a jolt of adrenaline through Tony’s core. His eyes sprung open and his cheeks heated. Steve pinned him with a firm gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Tony’s mouth. “You make that sound so…” His hands resumed their gentle strokes across Tony’s skin. Tony felt keyed up and peaceful at the same time - so turned on it was painful, but certain he could stay like that forever. His eyes drooped shut again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long Steve petted him and he didn’t care, but when those hands gently spun him around and guided him across the room, he let out a shaky sigh. Steve gripped the strap between the cuffs, his palm brushing against Tony’s fingers, and steered him to the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the front of Tony’s thighs hit the edge of the mattress, Steve crowded up behind him. He could feel him pressing against every inch of him, from his bare feet, to the erection rubbing against his ass, to warm lips on the back of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Steve asked quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Steve.” The words tumbled out more eager, more desperate than Tony expected. His cock throbbed as Steve trailed his hands teasingly over his skin. One went to his hip, the other, between his shoulder blades. Steve bent him down, firmly but carefully, until Tony was facedown on the mattress, bent over at the waist. He squirmed on the sheets, curling and uncurling his toes in the carpet and flexing his hands behind his back. Steve’s bed was high, but Tony still had to brace himself with his feet to keep from sliding down and it was just this side of uncomfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the hands were gone. He was left lying there, exposed. There was a rustle of clothing behind him. He waited, but Steve didn’t make a sound, didn’t touch him, didn’t issue a command.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His skin heated again as he thought about what it would look like to Steve, what Steve might be doing - was he just standing there, staring? Tony couldn’t help wondering what it would look like on JARVIS' recordings. He twisted his wrists in the cuffs again, thrilling at the unforgiving hold of the snug leather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just verging on too long, he was about to give in and look behind him, when Steve’s hand slid up his back to furrow in his hair. Tony let out a long breath and sunk into the sheets. The hand drifted back down to Tony’s bound hands, grabbing the strap again, applying the lightest pressure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s other hand glided over his hip and down into the sensitive skin of his ass. His slick finger slid in easily, sending rolling waves of gentle pleasure up Tony’s spine. He was floating, lost in timeless bliss as Steve worked him loose. The smooth slide of Steve’s thick fingers and the firm grip on his bound hands was all he could think about. He buried his face in the sheets and breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sharp crack echoed through the room and stinging pain erupted across his backside. Tony jumped, yelped, then groaned as Steve smoothed his hand over the sore spot. The sudden rush of heat pulled him up out of himself and into the present as Steve pulled his fingers away and pressed his cock to Tony’s hole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smooth roll of Steve’s hips, stretching Tony as he pushed into him, sent him back down, even deeper into the haze. He was gasping, panting, moaning, drooling onto the sheets where his face pressed against them. His pleasure built slowly, lacking urgency but desperate at the same time. Everything was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve </span>
  </em>
  <span>in that moment and the moment went on forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve pulled on the cuffs again, hard this time, and it was like an electric shock straight to Tony’s dick. He cried out and came, spilling over the sheets, and then he was gone. Gravity gave up on him entirely as he drifted in space, his only tether Steve’s hands gripping his hips. He was vaguely aware of Steve chasing his own release, pulsing inside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He barely felt Steve’s hands unclasping the bindings, stroking his wrists, easing the tension out of his shoulders. He barely heard him whispering words of praise in his ear, hushing him to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just floated.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Collared 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve ran his tongue up the inside of Tony’s thigh, making him shiver. Tony leaned back on the cool sheets, closing his eyes and focusing on the mouth and hands that explored him. Another lazy afternoon in the penthouse had inevitably led to discarded clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve…” he murmured, and Steve chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the alarm went off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit!” They both leapt out of bed, throwing on whatever they could find. Tony stopped with his back against the door and pouted. “Just when things were getting interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughed. “Things are always interesting with you, Tony.” He grinned like a shark and pressed Tony up against the door, slipping a filthy tongue into his mouth. "Let's save </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting </span>
  </em>
  <span>for when the world is safe, yeah?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The team hit the ground running, splitting into pairs - Steve with Nat - to take on the swarm of Doombots that were rushing downtown Manhattan. After several minutes of Doombot containment, Tony heard Steve’s fierce voice over his comm. He thought they were muted, but Steve must have switched his to a private channel with Tony by mistake. It was clear that his words were only meant for the ears of the SHIELD agent he was currently growling at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care what your CO ‘might say,’ you’re going to listen to me because I am Captain America, and I say so. I need you to move those barriers back, son. Now.” There was a tense pause. “Right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like he was whispering directly into Tony’s ear, his voice filling the whole helmet. The faceplate popped open, though Tony didn't remember telling it to, but the fresh air did nothing to clear his head. All he could see was Steve's face. He flashed back to Steve above, around and inside him. Holding him down, taking all his power away until he could float and be whatever Steve wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted that so badly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like going underwater in a dream. Tony didn’t have to hold his breath - he didn’t have to breathe at all. He just slipped below the surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then a metal fist connected with his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t seen the Doombot coming and now he was crumpled against a brick wall while mortar dust settled around him and blood streamed down his face. He looked up to see the Doombot advancing. Panic surged up and twisted with the soft, floaty feeling he still hadn’t shaken. Then a pair of leather-clad legs appeared around its neck and Black Widow sent 2000 volts straight through its wiring with her bites. It collapsed on the ground and she landed deftly beside it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony couldn’t stand, he felt fuzzy and confused. Where was Steve? Nat’s face appeared in his line of vision, confused. “Hey, Tony, you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinked at her. “Where’s Steve?” His voice sounded weird even to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She observed him clinically for a moment. “Tony, were you with Steve when we got the call to assemble?” She ran a gentle hand along his cheek and he leaned into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was on her comm in an instant. “Cap, come here now. Iron Man’s hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Tony tried to assure her, but she’d turned away. Only seconds later, Steve came flying around the corner and skidded to a half on the pavement. He ripped his cowl off and fell to his knees next to Tony. He looked so worried. Tony smiled; Steve was so beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Steve snapped out, running his hands over Tony in panic, but Natasha reached out and stilled them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Turn off your comm,” she hissed at him and he reared back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I assume you don’t want all of SHIELD knowing the sordid details of your sex life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve pinked then reached up and switched off his comm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were together when the call came in, right? A nod will do! I don’t need to know any more than that please,” she added hurriedly. Steve swallowed hard then nodded, and she sighed. “Steve, c’mon, you can’t send him out in the field like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t!” Steve protested. “He was fine when we left. We’d barely, um, started.” Nat rolled her eyes with exasperated affection and Steve turned back to Tony. “Tony, honey, what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” Tony tried to clear his head enough to describe it. “You were talking to that agent, I heard you over the comm, and then I got hit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nat and Steve stared at him and he stared back. Nat turned to Steve. “What were you saying?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve blushed. “I was, uh, I may have had some words with the kid who moved the barriers too close on the west side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, Cap. Did you put him into subspace by yelling at someone else?” Natasha sounded equal parts incredulous and impressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shuffled uncomfortably, then ran his hand through Tony’s hair. God, it felt good to have him here. “He’s really easy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony frowned, confused, and Steve shot him a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really good, you’re really good for me, Tony. I’m going to get you home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.” He went up easily into Steve’s arms, wishing he was feeling his bare skin instead of merely the feedback from inside the Iron Man gauntlets. Nat whispered something to Steve that Tony didn’t hear and then Steve twisted Tony's feet to the ground but hugged him close. "JARVIS, override code 890098. Take us home."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The armour locked around Tony and shot off into the sky. He let himself go limp inside, focusing on the pressure of Steve's arms wrapped around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air rushing around them seemed to clear the last of the cobwebs from Tony’s mind, and he was feeling much more himself by the time they hit the landing pad at the penthouse. He thought back over what had happened and groaned when he realized just how much Nat must have figured out about their relationship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve fussed over him, working him out of the armour and bustling him into bed. “I'm fine now, really. I just got a bit dazed,” Tony insisted. He wasn’t actually completely sure what had happened, but his nose wasn't broken and it had already stopped bleeding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked at him, pained. “Humour me, okay?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes, but climbed into bed and spread out on the sheets. He opened his arms invitingly, but Steve shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need a minute. I'll be right back. You need anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony had almost drifted off by the time Steve came back in, with a bottle of water he handed to Tony. He looked worried, but when Tony frowned, Steve shot him a reassuring smile. Instead of joining him in bed, Steve sat on the floor, his back against the mattress. Tony let his hand hang down and Steve took it and kissed it. “Tony, sweetheart, I made a mistake.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Collared 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Mistake</em>.</p><p>With every scratch of the lead across the paper, Steve remembered. <em> “I want other things too,” </em> he had whispered, what seemed like forever ago. <em> “I want to do so much with you. But for now, I’ll kiss you and touch you, whenever and wherever I want.” </em></p><p>The lead slashed across the page, ringing in his ears. They could have talked more then, set boundaries to separate their play.</p><p><em> Scratch</em>. But then (and now, he reminded himself) Steve had loved their time together too much to think straight. He wanted Tony all the time, in any way Tony chose to give himself. So he had kept falling into the pleasures of Tony, of him and Tony together, without seeing the risks. </p><p>
  <em> “Tony, if you don’t tell me what went wrong, I can’t protect you from it happening again.” </em>
</p><p><em> Protect. </em>He dropped the pencil, let it roll across the page and onto the floor. </p><p><em> “Hey, now. It’s okay to ask for things you want, you know.”  </em>Steve had assured him, but what if Tony didn’t want to disrupt the balance that had formed? What if Tony had been worried asking would change things between them? Steve knew how fast he went down, saw the haze in eyes and the slack in his smile. The warmth he radiated that burned the cold out of Steve’s deepest corners. Tony was bright and bold and breathtaking. Tony was his. </p><p>His to take care of.</p><p>He looked down at the piece of paper, blew away the bits of lead that sprinkled across the page of his completed design.</p><p><em> “Tony, sweetheart, I made a mistake</em>.” </p><p>
  <em> Fingers ruffled into Steve’s hair in reply, and Tony brought his warmth with him as he slid from their bed onto the floor next to Steve, pulling a blanket down to wrap around them both. He was soft with sleep, nuzzling into the crux of Steve’s neck, and Steve wondered, not for the first time, what he had done to deserve someone as wonderful as Tony.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His fists clenched underneath Tony’s fingers, and their eyes only met because Tony drew his chin over. “So, let’s fix it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Steve turned into the curve of Tony’s chest to take a steadying breath, before pulling back to meet intent, brown eyes. “Yes, Tony.” He could hear his words shudder with each breath. “Yes. We’ll fix it. God. You’re perfect.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tony’s smile crooked at the word. “So you keep telling me,” he whispered before closing the space between them with a kiss.  </em>
</p><p>The thin chain of balled metal ran between Steve's fingers. For decades it had been holding his dog tags around his neck. But ever since that first night Steve had handed Tony the flat metal tags, they’d been his--a remnant of Steve’s past brought to the future through Tony, turned into something beautiful now. As he’d sketched, he designed the chords of blue leather around the chain so delicate, yet enduring. </p><p>It reminded him of Tony. </p><p>“J," he said, after he put the final touches on his drawing. "Send it off to the craftsman.” </p><p>
  <em> “You fall so beautifully.” He broke away from the kiss to see Tony nodding in agreement. “It scares me that one errant word from me could put you in danger.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “When I’m with you it’s so easy to let go. One word and I can--I don’t--” Tony breathed. “I don’t want to lose that.” </em>
</p><p><em> “You won’t. But what happened today.” </em> Protect. Protect. <em> “It can’t happen again.” </em></p><p><em>“I know.”</em> <em>Tony tugged at the blanket wrapped around them, pulling at the threading. “I need something,” he began. “Something that will let me know--When I’m with you it’s so easy to float under your control, to give in, because I know you have me.” He caught Steve’s gaze and in his eyes he could see the desire there, his memories alone were all he needed to start falling under again. “I need something to ground me.”</em></p><p>
  <em> Steve nodded, finger reaching for Tony, for the pulse that danced at the base of his neck. “I know,” He reached around, gripping the back of Tony’s neck, connecting their gaze. “I know what you need.” </em>
</p><p>A couple days later, Steve found Tony curled up, back to him, in their bed. The wooden box felt heavy in his hands as Steve kneed onto the mattress, dipping it with his weight. He caught sight of the tablet in Tony’s hands. “You’re awake?” he asked, and Tony unfurled, setting aside his book and sitting up. Steve could easily read the expectation on his face.</p><p>Tony shot him a half-smile. “Been hard to sleep since you ran out here to find a cure for my, what did I call it? Narcoleptic subspace.” He smiled and Steve met it with a smile of his own and then Tony’s eyes fell to the box in his hands.</p><p>Steve tried not to grip too hard, splinter the wood. There were things he needed to say, important things, that would allow Tony to understand what he was doing here, what they were doing here, how much this meant to him. “I first considered the possibility of this, of us, when you caught me admiring the cuffs that bound you to the Iron Man suitcase.” </p><p>One line in, and Tony's eyelids dipped, a sweet smile softening his gaze. A beautiful sight that was enough to distract, usually would, but today Steve pushed through the words. “Well...you looked up at me, and your wrist, delicate and fine, twitched in the cuff; it stopped me in my tracks.”</p><p>With a deep breath, he handed over the box and watched as Tony traced his hands over the wood before returning his focus to Steve. “What is it?”</p><p>“Open it.” </p><p>Tony obeyed, lifting the lid of the box until he could see inside. On a satin, plush pillow sat the design Steve had sketched and the collar rested softly on top of it. </p><p>Steve watched Tony's eyes widen, lips part with a mix of surprise and awe. And when he looked up at Steve, he was flush and eager, and Steve knew he had made the right choice.</p><p>“You're mine,” he spoke low into the space between them. “And I’m yours.” Tony pressed his lips together and nodded, eyes torn between Steve and the collar. “Hand it to me.”</p><p>Tony’s fingers fumbled over it, pulling it from the wood. He held it out and Steve had to tug a little to get it out of Tony’s grip. “You know what this is, yeah?”</p><p>A blush dusted Tony’s cheeks as he nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p>Steve couldn’t help himself, he tilted his head down for a quick, heated kiss before forcing himself to pull away. “A collar.” He undid the buckle, holding the blue leather braided around a thin chain out for Tony to see. “I designed this for you to help ground you, so I can keep you safe. I did some research and well... When the collar is on that means that you can float, drift. I can protect you; and when it is off, you remain in control. Would you like that?”</p><p>Tony tilted his head, bearing his neck to Steve, beautiful in his submission. <em> Protect</em>. “Yes. Steve, yes.”</p><p>The words hit Steve like a lightning bolt, landing in the back of his chest behind his heart. The collar in his hands, it hardly seemed like enough now, but it was everything he had. He wrapped it around Tony’s neck, fitting it loosely but secure. Held. Tony was already on his way there, eyes glossing over and grin slack with pleasure. </p><p>“Mine,” Steve whispered. And Tony beamed, tumbling forward and connecting them with a kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Wait</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony woke to a trail of kisses along his lower back, Steve’s hand sliding across his skin. <em> “Beautiful,” </em> murmured into the dip of his spine and goosebumps emanated from the spot, shivering down between his thighs.</p><p>He tried to turn over, wanting more, but hands stilled his hips. “Stay,” Steve ordered, before spreading his ass to lick over the sensitive, puckered skin. Tony groaned, nuzzling his face into the pillow as Steve teased him with his tongue.</p><p>“I have to go,” Steve whispered, and before Tony could react, teeth bit into the ample cheek of his ass, and Steve contradicted his own words by sliding a well-lubed finger into his ass and saying, “Put on your collar.”  </p><p>Tony moaned at the command, groping blindly on the nightstand. Even though he preferred Steve to put it on, to claim him and center him, Tony secured it around his own throat because Steve told him to. Steve reached a hand up to grip the collar around his neck, and Tony relaxed under the pressure of it all. </p><p>“Tony, so irresistible. I have to--” Steve bent over, tongue pulling at his rim. Tony arched into it when Steve fully breached him with his finger, twisting to find that place inside that never failed to alight him with pleasure. Steve’s other hand gripped into his hip hard as he shifted, and Tony looked over his shoulder to see him naked and flushed and hard, hand on his cock, dragging it around Tony’s hole. He caught Tony’s eye then his eyelids drooped almost immediately with a moan of his own. Tony flushed with satisfaction, and pushed his body onto Steve because he was Steve’s, and Steve wanted him.  </p><p>“I’m going to fuck you,” Steve growled, another finger entered and stretched. He bent over and tugged at the collar around Tony’s neck. When Steve spoke again, his breath puffed against Steve’s ear. “Full schedule today, have to call into couple mission debriefs, train with the spies, and I can’t even get out of bed without having you.” He slid in then, just the tip, and they both moaned in unison before Steve continued easing into him. “I want to fuck you all day. Know you’re here--waiting for me. Maybe,” Steve breathed, bottoming out. “Maybe tie you up pretty to the bed, slicked up and open for me.”</p><p>Tony could see it, and he didn’t know what was hotter: the image or Steve suggesting it; blood rushed to his cock. The idea of waiting here, fucked out, however Steve left him. Used, owned, claimed, desire flooded him as Steve bit at his collar. </p><p>Tony whined, nodding, and then Steve pulled out and came. Hot spurts landed across Tony’s hole, against the small of his back. Steve slumped onto his back, his rough hand reaching around, and Tony came to the feeling of Steve’s hand and his body rubbing his come into Tony’s skin. </p><p>Tony floated, even as Steve pulled away, his hands running up Tony’s back to stroke through his hair. “Hey,” he heard Steve whisper, turning his head to see him crouching by the bedside table. The leather cuffs were in his hand, a questioning eyebrow raised. The words from earlier circled in Tony’s mind and he could easily read the question on Steve’s face. </p><p>An offer, not an order. </p><p>Tony held out his hands. Steve’s eyes danced as he slipped the cuffs around his wrists. Steve made sure a water glass, Tony’s phone, and his StarkPad were within arm’s reach before crouching back down next to Tony. His finger traced the collar, eyes heated, and Tony was distracted by the long expanse of naked skin, but also content to close his eyes when Steve told him too, stretching back into sleep. </p><p>Time passed.</p><p>The only reason Tony woke was because a weight shifted on the bed. Steve. He felt a fingernail pick at something on his back. Steve’s come from earlier. The memory, the evidence of it - Tony warmed, stretching into the hand as it caressed his back. “Steve,” Tony purred.</p><p>“Shh,” Steve whispered into the darkened room. He heard the unbuckling of pants, and he rubbed his legs against the sheets as he waited for Steve, relishing the cool stain on his naked thighs and hardening cock. The mattress shifted again, and Steve walked around to the side of the bed, cock in hand, then positioned it in front of Tony's mouth. “Open for me.”</p><p>Tony obeyed. He tasted a swipe of precome along his tongue and then Steve was pushing further into his mouth. Above him, tension drained out of Steve with each thrust. The angle was tough but it only made Tony want to try harder, to twist his tongue along the tip of Tony’s cock, to relax his jaw so the next stroke hit the back of his throat.</p><p>“Tony, I--” Steve broke off with a groan. “Sitting through that debriefing was torture; knowing you were here, waiting for me, covered in my come and tied to our bed--Fuck, I’m not going to last long. Tony, so good,” he moaned, and then he was coming thick beads of come down his throat. Tony held Steve’s cock in his mouth, sucking lightly as he nursed the final drop, until Steve pulled out and wiped his spent cock along Tony’s lips. </p><p>Between panting breaths, Steve’s hand reached into the dip of the bed, feeling for Tony’s cock as he thrusted it against the sheets. The hand closed into a fist around the base.</p><p>“It’s a long day. Only noon.” The tight pressure along the base of his cock centered Tony, his whole focus now on Steve, his cock under Steve’s control. “Think you can wait? Next call ends at two and I want to see you blissed out and begging, desperate to come.</p><p>“My come is all over you, and you look gorgeous. No one else can mark you this way, not even your own come, unless I say.” His body tried to grow harder under Steve’s hand but the pressure remained. “Do you think you can wait?”</p><p>“Yes,” he breathed. </p><p>“Good, Tony. So good.”</p><p>When Steve’s hand released his cock, the need was still there deep inside his groin, but it was easy to ignore, when Steve asked him to. </p><p>The bedroom door shut again.</p><p>Tony waited.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Presented</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony had spent the first fifteen minutes waiting, dreading, yearning for Steve to hit the button, and so far he had not. He hadn’t heard a word Steve said throughout his entire briefing, though the hums of the gathered spec-ops suggested it was ground-breaking strategy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They probably all thought it was a laser pointer clutched in Steve's right hand. All except Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s eyes brushed over Tony’s seat several times, but not once had they paused. Though he clearly held the remote in his hand, not once had he switched it on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony shifted in his seat, feeling the plug inside him. He wanted to rock into the sensation, but he held still. At the front of the briefing room, Steve pointed out the team leaders with his left hand and rolled the remote in his right. Tony tensed. Nothing came.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking for something to ground himself, Tony slid his hand into his jacket pocket and wound his fingers into the collar tucked at the bottom. The feel of the leather and smooth, metal chain reminded him that Steve had him. He could give in to the sensation. Not all the way - he was still in a room full of people - but the tight bundle of nerves and arousal and restlessness that lumped heavily in the bottom of his stomach gave way a little with the collar in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve had him. Steve would give him what he needed, when he was ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needed</span>
  <em>
    <span> so</span>
  </em>
  <span> badly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, it wasn't a briefing Tony was expected to pay attention to. The Avengers would get their own briefing the following morning. But Steve had asked Tony to sit in on this one, so Tony had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Commanded, really. Not asked. Tony squirmed in his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a breath in and out, Tony let himself sink, drift away. His breathing slowed, his body felt heavy, slumped into his chair. The gathered agents murmurs became a low buzz around him, barely noticeable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All he could see was Steve. He glowed as everyone else faded away. He owned the room, owned Tony, with every word, every gesture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Steve's gaze dropped from the back of the room and settled heavily on Tony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the plug jumped to life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony bit back a moan, shifting it into a harsh gasp of breath instead. He had no idea if he had drawn the attention of those near him; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vibration subsided again, and Tony pressed his hands to his thighs to keep from thrusting up out of his seat. He spread his fingers wide and imagined they were Steve's hands on him, that Steve sat behind him, legs wrapped around Tony's hips, lips to his ear. How he would whisper, “God, you want it so bad, don't you? You're incredible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if he could read Tony's mind, the real Steve at the front of the room took that moment to kick up the power of the plug once again and Tony choked on air. His body thrummed with the power pressed against his prostate. He was so hard it nearly hurt and his cock leaked copious precum, trapped against his thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vibration surged to a crescendo, and Steve was Tony’s conductor. Directing a symphony of secret pleasure inside him with every tiny movement of his thumb. Tony’s breathing shallowed. He shuffled in his seat and managed to cant his hips, just so. Electric shocks jolted through his core and he bit his cheek to tamp down a groan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the briefing went on, the intensity of the vibrations ebbed and flowed. At times it swelled to such a fierce peak that Tony was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold his cries back, and then, just when it became too much, it faded again. He watched as Steve’s fingers slid over the remote, controlling it in subtle ways Tony didn’t understand. Steve’s voice didn’t falter and his movement around the room remained natural. But now his eyes kept falling to Tony, kept hitching in their path across the room, and when they did still, only for a second, they bore into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony's cock throbbed and he longed to touch it, to at least press his palm against it. Steve was pushing him unrelentingly now. Tony was sure he could somehow tell how close his was. The vibration no longer eased off, instead it ramped up steadily, setting all of Tony’s nerves alight. He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. His eyes were still fixed on Steve. Nothing but Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the front, Steve planted his feet, crossed his arms, and concluded his speech. His eyes swept once across the gathered agents then settled on Tony, and for the first time that day, Tony could feel the full force of his undivided attention. His eyes were dark, strong, commanding, and fixed entirely on Tony as if the rest of the room was irrelevant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The agents broke into teams, most rising to their feet as they checked in with op leaders, but Tony was pinned to his chair by Steve’s stare. The plug’s assault built and built, torturing his prostate, rippling through his nerves. His eyes were wet, his hands gripped the fabric of his pants hard enough to tear. And when the chatter in the room reached its peak, Steve cranked up the intensity to its maximum and gave Tony a short, sharp nod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he broke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He came hard, so hard that for a moment he lost all senses save for deep, gut-twisting touch. He throbbed in his underwear, the vibrator milking pulse after pulse of hot come out of him without a touch on his rock-hard cock. His skin ignited, a wildfire of shame ripping its way across his cheeks and neck, intertwining with the intense pleasure the vibrator was still forcing out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He allowed himself a grunt into his closed fist, covering it as a cough, unheard by the engaged agents. The plug stilled inside him, and he found a breath again, the overwhelming sensations wracking through him starting to fade. He shivered as his body remembered a phantom echo of the tortuous vibration, relieved it had abated while desperate to feel it again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He panted down from his orgasm, eyes sliding up to find Steve again, still at the front, talking to Agent Haverly, but shifting his way to the side of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony focused everything he had on controlling his breathing and finding gravity again, as the people around him collected notepads and tablets. The group started to disperse, but Tony stayed glued to his seat - not only because he was worried about a tell-tale wet spot on his pants, but because he wasn’t sure his legs could currently support him. Once the room had mostly emptied, he heard a throat clear and he looked up to find Steve standing at his side, unbearably gorgeous in his stealth suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve, that was -” he started, but Steve cut him off with a firm grip on his bicep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No time. Avengers business. I need you to come with me. Right now.” The last was hissed through clenched teeth and now that he was up close, Tony could see Steve’s cheeks were flushed, his hands were clenched into fists and his eyes were dark and wild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shoved his own briefing binder into Tony’s hands and dragged him to his feet, leading him along with a hand on the small of his back. Tony could still feel the shifting of the toy inside him as he moved. He held the binder in front of him, not sure if it was enough to hide his hardly flagged erection, or the damp stain on his suit pants. Steve steered him down the hall, pressed indecently close behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony felt Steve’s hand glide over his side and into the pocket of his jacket. His fingers tangled into the collar Tony had been gripping just moments ago and Tony's knees went weak. His cock tried to throb to life, desperately eager again already, and his body craved Steve’s touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small noise of want leaked out between his lips, and Steve huffed out a half breath, half groan against Tony's ear as he rushed him down the hall – towards his office? Out to a car? Tony didn't know; he let himself be steered and focused all his energy on not coming again already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve gripped the collar, still inside the pocket, pressed it against Tony's side, and leaned in impossibly closer. “Tony, sweetheart, you stole the show.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Saved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Warmth curled around Tony from head to foot, the steam in the room making him hazy and low on oxygen in the best way. Steve's hands were wrapped around Tony's ankle, drawing gentle paths up his calf with a washcloth. The sensation was thrilling, intoxicating. Tony felt drunk on Steve's steady touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The washcloth floated up over Tony's knee where it stuck out of the water and the warmth of the  wet fabric against the patch of skin that had air dried made him moan softly. He tensed his arms against the cuffs that kept his arms pinned behind his back and tried to roll his hips up, find some friction. But there was none to be had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve's other hand slipped mercifully between his legs as the washcloth drifted over his hip and up his chest to swipe over his nipple. Steve shifted, and the water splashed, a few drops flicking up to splatter on Tony's face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next breath he sucked in was acrid smoke and frigid water. The room smelled like dirt and he could taste the stomach-churning, bitter bite of blood on his tongue. His hair plastered to his face in wet hanks and every time he tried to breathe in, it was nothing but more water. He coughed, choked, tried to push the dust out of his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pineapple," he gasped out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The touch of the washcloth instantly vanished, the bindings disappeared from his wrists, and he found himself being lifted out of the tub. A huge, warm towel wrapped around his shoulders and he was pulled against Steve’s chest. He didn’t realize he was shivering until Steve tugged the towel tighter and rubbed his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Face," Tony managed, and the towel wiped across his cheek, then pushed his hair back, scrubbing a little to shake the droplets free from the curls that were no longer stuck to his skin. With another gentle wipe, Tony finally managed to suck in a breath that was all air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony immediately turned and wrapped his arms around Steve's waist. He burrowed in, breathing in the smell of him and banishing the heart-pounding memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a few minutes before he realized Steve was talking. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Steve ran soothing hands up and down Tony's sides. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm okay," Tony managed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leaned back a little to fix Tony's face with his gaze. “What was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The cave. Waterboarding.” Tony was pleased to find his voice was steady and even. His teeth didn’t chatter. “It was okay - it was good - and then. It wasn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, ok.” There was an edge of something panicky in Steve’s voice, like he was shaken too but trying not to show it. “No more bathing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony pouted into Steve's neck. “It was good though, I liked it until - And you said you wanted to…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not worth it,” Steve replied immediately. "I don't want to do anything that might hurt you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Tony let out an uneven breath and curled deeper into Steve’s side. Steve was quiet, patient; he stroked Tony's side and kissed his forehead. “They would hold me underwater,” Tony said finally. “And I had this car battery attached to me, powering the old version of the arc reactor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s hands stilled for a second, Tony could feel his fingers twitch almost like they were trying to form fists, and then they resumed their easy petting. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” Tony assured him. He'd never felt panic come on like that before, so suddenly, just from a little splash of water. No shower had ever set him off. In that moment, though, he'd been back in the cave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now it faded, the terror abated and the fog lifted. He was clear and present and comfortable again. He felt his heart rate slowing and his breathing returning to normal. The shivering subsided as well, though every now and then a little jolt would shoot up his spine and he would have to shake it loose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” Steve started, tipping his face down so he could meet Tony’s eyes. “You never told me why 'pineapple' is your safeword.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t? Hmm.” Tony shifted a little and Steve drew him properly into his lap. Tony realized they were both just sitting on the bathroom floor, but JARVIS had cranked the heat and there was a soft mat under Steve's butt, so he let himself sink into the hold, cheek pressed to Steve's chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay, it’s just, um, I was with someone else…” He trailed off, feeling awkward. Steve had never seemed to judge him for his famously promiscuous past, but they didn't talk about it much either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Steve gave a faux-shocked gasp. “You mean you didn't save yourself for me? I'm so offended.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony laughed then poked a finger in Steve’s side. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re being ridiculous to distract me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. You distract me all day, every day. Turnabout is fair play.” Steve tipped his head down to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes and nuzzled deeper into Steve’s chest. “So I was an eager and extremely horny kid. I knew I was into BDSM, but for most of my teen years, it was just watching porn and wishing. Then, when I was in my second PhD program, I met this guy who was in the scene. I was twenty-one and I'd had a fair amount of sex, but none of it particularly kinky and a lot of it with women. But this guy was, I dunno, maybe eight years older, and he was confident and sexy and wanted me, which was wild all on its own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he asked me out and I said yes. We got a drink, and he invited me back to his place. Once we were there, he made it clear that he was a dom looking for a sub and was I into that? Well, obviously I super was and it was my chance to try this thing out for real and see if I liked it, so I said yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rubbed idle patterns on Tony's back, through the towel. "Was it good?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was incredible. We never dated because in all honesty, we were only compatible sexually, but he taught me a lot. And if he hadn't been so good at it and so patient with me, it might have scared me out of the scene entirely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve hummed. "I'm glad you had that." He paused. "You didn't tell me where 'pineapple' comes from, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony chuckled. "Noticed that, did you? So it was that first night. I'd had one drink, and I was really excited, but trying to be cool. And he asked me if I wanted to go down for him and I said yes. And then he asked me a bunch of things, if I'd done them before, and I had to say no to all of them. So I was feeling kind of small and inexperienced - not his fault, just sort of inevitable - so when he said 'what's your safeword?' I didn't want to say 'I don't have one,' because here was something I didn't have to admit to not knowing. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>have one and I'd never thought about it. So I may have panicked a little. I looked around his apartment, trying to come up with something that wasn't too long or too silly or that there's no way I could have come up with before, and the first thing I saw was this can of pineapple sitting in his pantry, right in my line of sight. So that's what I said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess I could have changed it, but I used it with him for a couple years, and so by the time we parted and I was with someone else, it was already pretty engrained."  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony could hear a smile in Steve's voice when he replied, “That’s a good story.” Tony shrugged, but Steve hugged him a little closer. “You can tell me, you know. About other people in your life. I want to know. About you. All of you. If you want to talk about it. I know you have a past and it makes me happy when you want to share it with me, even though you weren't mine then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony felt a shiver of a different kind radiate through his body. “Okay,” he whispered, and it came out as stunned and overwhelmed as he felt. Because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve's now and he could feel it right down to his core.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tugged a little, and Tony shifted closer. He could feel the phantom cuffs around his wrists, echoes of where they’d been restraining him. And Steve was naked and wrapped around him, warm and soft and present. Tony’s hips rolled of their own accord, his newfound erection sliding along Steve's stomach through a part in the towel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You still want to come?” Steve asked, voice low, soft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony blushed but nodded. Steve didn’t seem to think it was weird that he could be aroused again so soon after a panic attack. Instead, he just reached between them and took Tony in hand. It took a while, longer than it normally took Tony, but Steve never seemed to tire, or get frustrated. He worked him smoothly, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other furrowed in his hair. Every now and then, he’d press a kiss to Tony’s forehead and murmur, “Good boy,” or, “Just like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sunk into relaxed pleasure, the remaining touches of terror finally thawing under Steve’s touch and heat and voice. His orgasm built easily and broke gently, leaving him languid and dopey. Steve carried him to the bedroom and tucked them both into bed, Tony gathered on his chest. Tony thought idly that he should return the favour, but Steve shushed him until his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Suited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The battle was over, and although its quiet remains lay around them, behind his cowl, Steve was desperate. His hands itched; he wanted to push from the concrete and run over to the man standing in the center of the charred battlefield.</p>
<p>Tony had taken control of the fight in the end. He’d flown right into the brunt of it, repulsors lighting up the sky, but Steve’s imagination had to provide the rest, because Steve had turned to throw his shield towards three aliens about to intercept Tony’s path. Then he was knocked off his feet, as Tony shot the core of the alien’s weapon with a single shot. </p>
<p>When he caught his breath, the first thing he did was look for Tony.</p>
<p>Glorious, in the middle of the abandoned city street, helmet retracted to reveal his face. Then he smiled, victorious, and his gaze sought out someone--grin widening when he found Steve.</p>
<p>Steve was on his feet and running across the street within seconds. Gravel skidded under his boots as Tony retracted his gauntlets, eyes bright and pupils wide. Steve pulled off his cowl, and it was like Tony couldn’t contain his surge of adrenaline, moving forward with his hands on Steve’s hips. If a camera were to capture them now, it’d be an image to inspire generations. All Steve wanted was to close the space between them with a kiss, wrap a hand into Tony’s hair and make it deep and filthy. </p>
<p>Tony was <em> his</em>. This incredible man that had stopped an invasion with a suit of his own creation and unparalleled genius alone belonged to Steve, and the truth of that was enough to catch his breath. There was blood on Tony’s armor but none of it was his own, Steve had made sure of that. Because as much as Tony could face down an army, Steve would shield him from the brunt of its force. Steve could protect him.</p>
<p>Steve stepped forward, blocking the rest of the world so all Tony could see was <em> him</em>. Brown eyes fixed on his face. “You make battle look good, Cap.” Tony’s smile sharpened, a mix of something affectionate and flirtatious. </p>
<p>Steve wanted to touch him, had wanted to for what seemed like hours. So he pulled off his gloves and closed one hand around his cheek, the other fell to his hand. Steve knew this armor, had watched Tony endlessly work on it with his own two hands, every plate of metal beat into his own design, hardening the torso strong enough to stop a laser. Steve’s hand pulled from Tony’s to run along the hard metal, to grip at the side of his neck. Tony took a stumbling step forward.</p>
<p>“Look at you,” Steve said, mostly because he couldn’t stop staring, now that he started. “The way your armor molds around you. I could watch you all day.” He couldn’t resist, not when Tony’s eyes were darkening with want. He ran his hand around to grip the back of his neck, right where the collar would rest, only now his finger could trace along the edge of the armor. Tony took in a shaky breath. </p>
<p>Steve moved, stepping closer and whispering into Tony’s ear. “Fly us home.” </p>
<p>Tony did, moving to wrap a hand around Steve’s waist and, after he was securely standing on Tony’s boots, the repulsors shot off the concrete. They were close to the tower, and he didn’t have to focus on the hold, knowing Tony had him, he could pay attention instead to the way the armor felt under his hands, the strength of it, the way that it made Tony strong. There was something about this man, <em> his </em> Tony, so physically powerful. And all because he was mentally incredible. His arms tightened around Tony’s torso, and Tony’s flightpath waivered just a hair. It thrilled Steve that he managed to affect Tony, but he also didn’t want to fly into a skyscraper so he left his wandering hands still, for now.</p>
<p>When they landed, Steve grabbed Tony’s hand and led them to the penthouse they now shared. As soon as the door closed, he pushed Tony against it, hands running along the armor the way he’d been imagining midair. </p>
<p>He gripped hard, feeling the strength of it under his skin, imagining Tony under its layers, unable to feel, wanting to feel; was he aching for Steve’s touch? Steve felt a rush of pleasure, wanted to rip at the armor, pull at its pieces until he could get to Tony. His hands scraped down Tony’s sides, and he gripped, hard. “You look so damn beautiful in this armor, Tony. Always have, even when I first saw you flying across the sky. But <em> this one</em>, I’ve seen you make, bang and beat into your own creation and that makes it even hotter.” He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss into the chestplate, even if he knew Tony wouldn’t feel it through the metal. “Sometimes you’re out there fighting Doom bots or alien creatures like today, and I just have to stop to marvel at how you move under it, how your body twists -” he ran a hand down the metal, gripping it’s waist “- and turns.” He clenched tight, but the armor didn’t crack or fracture. “I want you. Now. Do you want that, Tony?”</p>
<p>Tony gasped, nodded.</p>
<p>“Take out your cock.” </p>
<p>And Tony was so good, even though his breath went ragged as parts of the armor fell away, allowing Tony to follow his order and slip his cock through the slit of his undersuit. The rest of the armor remained, and Steve could grip its shoulders, before Steve dropped to his knees before Tony.</p>
<p>Above him, Tony went wild, hands scrabbling for purchase against the door and, when he couldn't find any, twisting into Steve’s hair. Steve was unrelenting; he needed to touch Tony. He wanted to take the man apart and build him up again, just like Tony had with his armor. He wanted to swallow him down then dress him up in his own come. His tongue twisted against the head of Tony’s cock, and Steve knew he wouldn’t last long. </p>
<p>A wicked idea popped into his mind, and he reached around Tony’s ass, the tail of his chestplate still covering but there was room for Steve’s hand to slide under it, moving so that his fingers pressed the undersuit into his crack. </p>
<p>He let one hand squeeze, while the other slid in, tracing over Tony’s hole. Then, with one well aimed press, he pushed his undersuit-covered finger into Tony, just a minute breach, and thick spurts of come shot into Steve’s mouth so hard they hit the back of his throat. </p>
<p>Tony looked down at him, pieces of armor hanging around him, but his cock still in Steve’s mouth and shock evident on his face. Eyes wide with awe, chest panting, his face red and helmet askew. Steve couldn’t help the wink he gave Tony as he sucked every, last drop. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Resisted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you ever feel like saying no?” Steve asked out of nowhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Tony looked up from his tablet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you ever feel like saying no when I ask you to do something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve said no to sex before,” Tony pointed out, still not sure he understood what Steve was asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, after you’ve said yes to sex. Saying no to something else.” Steve stood and walked over to Tony’s chair, leaning a hip against his shoulder. Tony tucked his arm around Steve’s thigh, holding him close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought about it for a moment, then looked up to meet Steve’s eyes. “If I were uncomfortable, or didn’t want to do something I’d tell you, honey. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smiled, sweet and affectionate. “I know, I know, I trust you. That’s not what I mean either.” His hand curled around the back of Tony’s neck and a shiver rippled down his spine. “I mean - “ Steve leaned in close and his voice lowered “- if I say, ‘Tony, on your knees,’ have you ever wanted to say, ‘No,’ and see what happens?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony swallowed, something eager and excited curling through his gut. A flash of movement caught his eye - Steve was spinning his collar around his other hand. It was a question, an invitation to something Tony had never considered before, but now he was intrigued, curious, incensed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked to the collar, then to Steve, and nodded. When Steve brought it close, Tony tipped his chin back, letting him slide it on. Now Steve would take care of him, no matter what. He could let go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve spun Tony’s chair until he faced him fully, caged between his arms. Steve leaned over him, bringing their faces close together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On your knees, Tony,” Steve growled, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>when Steve growled, Tony could feel it reverberate in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony met his gaze. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s eyes flashed. His responding grin was predatory and heated. Tony’s skin ignited under his scrutiny; his muscles twitched, itching to squirm and writhe, but with effort, he held still.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could make you,” Steve hissed out, so close, and Tony knew he could, so easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sucked in a breath. “Then make me.” His voice wasn’t as steady as he would have liked, but he could feel the intensity ramp up. Steve radiated need at him, and he soaked it up. He didn’t know what he wanted: if he wanted Steve to make him, just drop him to the ground, skinning his knees on the carpet, if he wanted to push back, or if he just wanted to quake here, caught between yes and no forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve slipped one finger between Tony’s collar and his neck, not pulling but settled there, pressure against his throat. When Tony swallowed, he could feel it, just this side of uncomfortably tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shifted forward until his legs were on either side of Tony’s, locking them together. Steve leaned in, squeezing a little, looming over Tony, trapping him. The flood of adrenaline was sharp. He wasn’t floating, weightless, like from their usual games, or even merely aroused. He was alight, tense, wound. Steve’s skin was electrified and every time he touched him, it brought the heady risk of shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re mine, I can do whatever I want to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes drifted shut. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yours.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He felt the edges of the world blur and his lungs exhale all in a rush. And then Steve’s heat suddenly disappeared. Tony sucked in a cool breath and focused, snapping his eyes open. Steve had moved back a few feet. There was challenge in his eyes, and Tony thrilled at the thought of what Steve might do if he got up and walked away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he didn’t walk away, he rose and stepped forward until they were chest-to-chest, forehead to forehead. Steve’s hand returned to his collar, holding it lightly, possessive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me your word, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in his ear, and this wasn’t a command he resisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pineapple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good boy.” Steve’s breath was hot against the curve of his ear. The praise warmed him from the inside out, like a shot of whiskey. Steve gripped the collar tighter. “On your knees.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony straightened his spine, leaned away from the touch. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve deftly flicked Tony’s pants open and wrapped his hand around his cock. “On your knees, Tony,” he commanded again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” It was more moan than word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stroked him, rough, demanding, and Tony’s body yearned to give in to it. He was on a tightrope, balanced precariously between control and release. He was Steve’s, Steve had him held tight, locked to him, and yet he still whispered, “No,” when Steve ordered him down again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s pace quickened. He gripped Tony just the way he liked it, rolled his palm over the head of his cock, ran the pad of his thumb along the sensitive underside. Tony couldn’t breathe, his hands came up to Steve’s sides, a fistful of his shirt pressed over each hip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he started to shake, Steve pulled him closer, gripped the collar tighter and growled out, “On your knees, Tony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony cried out, came, and while he was still throbbing through the aftershocks, he fell to his knees. Steve’s hand stayed wound into his collar and his other, still slick and wet from Tony’s come, pulled his own cock out and stroked himself towards release. Tony could tell Steve was close already and it didn’t take long before he was gasping out in desperation. When Tony opened his mouth and leaned forward, Steve’s eyes squeezed shut, the hand on the collar convulsed and he coated Tony’s tongue, lips, cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stumbled forward but caught himself, and Tony grabbed his wrist, guiding him to the floor beside him. He felt relaxed and blissful, clear-headed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smirked at him. “Good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned back, reached out a finger and ran it over Steve’s cheek. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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